


Without her

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Children, Description of forced sexual attention, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fingering, Grown up bed action, Masturbation, Motherless Children, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, War, Widowed, Yearning, description of death, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:30:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 54,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: This is based on what has happened to Athos post the ending of the series. He and Sylvie have had a family, but having died in childbirth with their last child he is trying to cope as a 'single father'.A mysterious woman arrives who knows him from the distant past. she has a very shady history, but Athos is intrigued, and loyal to her father.She becomes part of his life and restores some order.A war calls him to action and his return brings with it some familiar characters.I've not strictly kept to history, but some of the events happened and some of the characters could be real I suppose.....





	1. Poor Athos

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long, slow burn story......  
> We meet the mystery lady who will become a main character.

Athos sighed deeply as the sound of a squalling baby roused him from his fretful sleep. He dragged his body from the cot he occupied, his hair lank, his beard unkempt and his shirt torn in numerous places. The babe was lying in a basic wooden crib at the foot of his own place of rest and was kicking and screaming her healthy lungs out.  
It pained him to hear her so well and full of life when his beloved Sylvie, who he thought of as his wife these past 6 years had given her own life in delivering this kicking little pink creature into the world.  
His daughter, named for her mother whose body lay under the oak tree just in front of his small, humble home.  
Wordlessly he lifted her tiny body and held her to his own, finding warmth and comfort she stilled and sucked on the large, rough finger he placed into her eager little mouth.  
He adored her, although she bore little resemblance to her brothers or mother with her dark hair and complexion. No, this little babe was his own treasure, fair haired and pink skinned with blue eyes like a summer sky.  
Making his way down the dusty, wooden staircase he found his sons already awake and trying to make themselves clean, get themselves fed and make as little noise as possible.  
Armand was almost 6. He was tall, like his father and had dark curls waving to his shoulders. His dark eyes saw everything and he tried hard to please his beloved Papa, although it had been difficult in the 6 months since his Mama had gone to heaven. Papa was sad, their once happy home was no longer a place of joy and laughter.  
Isaac and Jean had arrived together, they were now 4 years old, alike in many ways, but with different tempers and interests. both had the dark complexions of their mother, but their hair was a definite brown rather than the black of Armand. Isaac was studious, he watched things closely and carefully, cried when he fell, and cried a lot since the loss of his mother. Jean was a fighter already, he had not shed a tear for his mother yet.  
Athos watched them, Armand scrubbed his brother's necks with icy water from a bucket; Isaac ripped bread from a stale loaf for them all and Jean ladled milk from the churn into a small bowl, which they passed around and shared.  
It was a pathetic sight and it saddened Athos' heart. He hadn't given them much love recently; he hadn't had the time; and yet here they were, helping each other in comradely support......a bit like musketeers he thought.  
He stroked Armand on his soft curls and managed a weak smile at him which lifted his son's spirits so high.  
"Do you remember how to light the fire?" Athos asked him.  
"Yes Papa, shall I do it now?" he eagerly asked.  
Athos nodded at him and the boy set to work with kindling and logs to create a small blaze in the hearth.  
Athos took some of the goat's milk from the churn and placed it into a pot, allowing it to heat a little. He poured it into a feeding cup.  
"Let me Papa, I can feed Sylvie," said Isaac, looking up at his father with huge, dark eyes.  
"Sit down then, and hold her gently," Athos instructed. Satisfied that his daughter was content he went outside to draw more water to wash himself and his clothes in his usual manner - dousing an entire bucket of water from the well over his head and shaking like a dog.  
On leaving his door that morning however his ablutions were being observed.  
She'd waited there since dawn, watching for signs of movement, hoping that she had the correct instructions and the right property.  
When she saw him she knew instantly that it was. That was Athos. She remembered him from so many years ago.  
She gasped as he drenched himself and his shirt with the water, it clung to his taut and muscular body and became transparent in the morning sunshine. She could make out his dark chest and nipples made erect by the icy water.  
Moving himself into the direct sunlight he sat on the wooden step in order to pull on his leather boots and scrape back his hair into a loose knot on his scalp, the rest flowing to his shoulders.  
It was at this point that she made herself known. She stepped out from behind the trees and walked slowly beside her horse towards him and the house.  
Athos stood immediately and instinctively pulled the tatty door to close it.  
"What do you want?" his voice was deep and resonant in the quietness of the morning countryside.  
"Sanctuary, Monsieur Le Comte," came her reply. The voice was clearly accented, she was not French, but what of the address? How on earth did she know his past title?  
Fastening the horse to a post she walked to him.   
She was incredibly beautiful; her hair the colour of autumn leaves, but shorter than he would have expected for a woman of her age. Her skin was clear, pale with freckles highlighting her nose and cheeks, also her shoulders and arms, parts of which were visible due to her clothing.  
She didn't look like a pauper, but nor was she dressed like a noblewoman.  
"You seem to know me," he rumbled, "Pray enlighten me.....I am quite at a loss as to how I may have made your acquaintance my lady."  
Then she smiled; a sweet, fleeting movement of her lips which brought light and sparkle to her eyes. It resonated with him from way back in his memory.  
"We met, several times, a very long time ago. My name is Marianne of Huntingdon, but you knew me as...."  
"Eleanor," he cut her sentence short as recognition started to filter through his brain. "It's you Eleanor.....it must be....how many years?"  
She cast her gaze away from him briefly, "Too many to recall," she answered, looking sad and a little frightened he thought.  
" We first met when I visited your father, I was a boy of 8 and you were a tot of barely 2 years old......you were such a pretty thing," he began to smile but stopped himself. He thought back to her first comment, sanctuary.  
"Are you in danger?" he asked meeting the gaze she gave him.  
She nodded meekly, "I was....In England I was......maybe here I shall be safe?"  
"Come inside," he somehow always carried himself with the grace and deportment of a nobleman, and in guiding her into his humble dwelling he could easily have been escorting the queen into Versailles.


	2. Poor Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We discover Eleanor's background and why she needs sanctuary.  
> Description here of a forced sexual encounter (which did not come to fruition) due to death of a minor character (not many details and not really gory)

The 3 small children regarded the beautiful lady who had entered their shabby home with interest and almost impolite staring.   
Eleanor smiled warmly at the grubby little faces and said "Hello," softly.  
Jean walked towards her and innocently and peered up at her, "Are you an angel?" he asked, causing his father to inhale and give an exasperated glance in her direction, but Eleanor was unphased,  
"No, I'm a friend of your father, we met when he was a little boy, like you," she bobbed down in a very natural manner to be closer to the small boy's face when she addressed him.   
Satisfied with her answer he went back to his task of dragging a somewhat bedraggled broom around the floor.  
"Children, go outside for a while; see if you can find some of those wild strawberries again," Athos said kindly, taking his daughter from Armand who was rocking her gently. He shushed and cradled her using one of his arms and ushered the boys out of the room.  
"Will you sit?" he indicated the better of the chairs, one which had arms and a high, curved back, near to the fire. Eleanor gratefully arranged herself and he selected a seat on the wooden bench next to the table, but facing her; Sylvie resting on his lap, thumping her little hands against his forearm.  
Eleanor thought it a charming sight, but she couldn't help notice the deteriorating squalor of the room in general, and the definite lack of a mother.  
"I think you'd better tell me why you are here," Athos requested, giving her an open but firm gaze.  
" I need to go back several years," she said levelly. He nodded in encouragement, implying that he had nowhere better to be.  
"You remember I had 5 older brothers; sadly none of them are with us anymore, none of them lived past one and twenty, and nor is my dear father who died these four years gone, you recall of course that I was named for my mother who died bearing me, Marianne, although everyone always called me by Eleanor as it pained my father so much." She noticed Athos draw his little girl closer to his chest and his eyes showed pain.   
She continued to explain that she had lived with and cared for her father until it was evident his life was ending. Their lands and property had struggled under English war; the fact that they were not supporters of Cromwell had not helped them; but his main concern was for his daughter's safety. He had made a deal with Baron Gisburne, a wealthy man who had long expressed an interest in her charms. The deal made it clear that Their marriage would be in name only, that Baron Gisburne would claim their lands in full, but that Eleanor should remain untouched, if that was her wish, but he would be free to sire any number of bastards. the baron had signed a pact with his seal which meant that Eleanor's father could die in peace.  
Eleanor had never wanted the match, but her father had explained how dangerous it could be for her; a women alone with wealth....she would be preyed upon by Lord knows who; and this way she could maintain her dignity. If at some point she grew to love the baron so be it; but if not, she would be safe.  
"On our wedding night he entered my chamber, without my consent and forced himself upon me.....I tried to escape, I kicked over furnishings, candles; I screamed as loudly as I could to alert servants loyal to me; but he had placed his own men outside the door and they beat those who sought to aid me," Athos' gaze was now full of anger, alarm and concern. Eleanor's breathing was heavier and he was ashamed to find himself drawn to her creamy breasts swelling against her stomacher.  
"....so you ran away? Escaped?" he asked gently.  
"Not exactly," she continued. "He grabbed me and pressed me face down onto my bed, and as he was lifting my nightgown I felt his grip weaken, so I backed up quickly and knocked him off balance. I reached for the first thing I could find, which was a metal candle spike next to the door. The candle fell to the floor and he came towards me again.......so I thrust it at him and caught him on his neck. Blood spurted out so quickly.....there was just so much blood and he was still coming towards me, so I picked up the small dagger I had in my dressing chest and held it before me. He bled so quickly from his neck, he collapsed and was dead within quite a short time. And then after everything went quiet people came in and they found him, and all that blood and me holding a dagger.....so they assumed I'd killed him," at this point she met his eyes, which were clouded in anguish, but her own eyes were a piercing blue-grey back at his, "I wish I had used the dagger....I would have done......but it wasn't needed."  
Athos exhaled into the sweet smelling head of his daughter - the thought of any man attempting to take her honour appalled him, and this gorgeous creature was sitting explaining the most hideous event to him with calmness, honesty and very little emotion.  
"I was imprisoned, that's why my hair was cut," she touched her fingers to the short, chin length locks on her head. "It has grown since, a little, but when they first placed me inside Nottingham castle dungeons they shaved it off.....and then I was moved to a different castle, I'm not sure where, and I was there for almost four years I think, and then one day they moved me to a nunnery down near the coast....I stayed as long as was necessary to find assistance and escaped on a boat and came here. I can't stay in England.....there is so much going on between the Catholics, Protestants, Cromwell's followers....and of course I am technically a criminal." Her voice drifted off and her eyes looked distant, as if thinking back to better times, or what they could have been.  
"Stay with us here Eleanor," Athos instructed kindly, "We have little, but you are welcome to share what we have.......I'm afraid their mother suffered the same fate as your own," and he kissed Sylvie's head once more, causing her to turn and grab a handful of his hair in her chubby fist, "We would welcome a female presence."  
"Do you have any belongings with you?" he asked, standing and dragging his free hand through his hair, mentally trying to work out suitable sleeping arrangements for such a fine lady sharing his home with 4 children.  
"But a few, they are in my saddlebag," she nodded, standing herself and making for the doorway. "I noticed that you have stables....perhaps I could make myself comfortable there." It was as though she was reading his mind - it was evident that the home wasn't large. she's known him when he was Comte de La Fere; had she been expecting a large manor house?   
"I don't think that will be appropriate," he replied, "I shall make some adjustments to the rooms upstairs and you shall have one of those....I'm afraid it will be somewhat basic."  
She stepped towards him and took his hand in her own, causing Sylvie to reach out and grab at her dress. He was over a hand taller than she and incredibly broad next to her narrow shoulders. The feeling which flooded through her as she stood within his personal space was one of overwhelming safety....it was the way she had felt so many years ago when he had rescued her from the tree where she had become stuck. She remembered the words he had used to soothe her - he would have been about 11 years old whilst she was 5, and she gulped when he spoke them again,  
"It's alright now," his thumb rubbing across the knuckles of her hand, still clasped in his.  
"Thank you, Athos," she whispered, on the brink of losing control; her eyes shining with unshed tears.  
He drew her fingers to his mouth and tenderly caressed his lips against them.


	3. A long time ago....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We discover that Eleanor once had some feelings towards Athos.

Eleanor withdrew her hand from Athos and headed towards her horse - the 3 boys were introducing themselves to her, and her soft nature meant that Armand had been able to clamber into the saddle. He was laid along her neck, his arms wrapped around with his cheek pressed to her warmth.  
"Her name is Tilly," she said, smiling as the horse whinnied in recognition and nuzzled her skirts as she unfastened the saddles bags which hung either side. Neither was particularly laden and once removed the boys were eager to assist the pretty lady.  
Between them, Isaac and Jean carried the bags, whilst Armand offered to take Tilly to their stables - Eleanor accompanied Armand letting the smaller boys manoeuvre the bag into the house.

The stables were a significant contrast to the main home - everything was spick and span; tack hung, meticulously clean and polished.  
The building housed a large sable horse which she guessed belonged to Athos. She introduced herself and allowed it to muzzle into her hand and chest; stroking it's neck with her elegant fingers and whispering soft greetings into it's flicking ears.  
There was also a selection of goats, chickens and ducks as well as a beautiful white flanked cow with a young calf.  
"I look after them," Armand explained proudly." It is my job while Papa looks after the crops. We grow hay to feed them, and we sell some to the other farmers too," he continued as he went about carefully but assuredly removing the saddle and tack from Tilly and rubbing her flanks down. He gave her access to a hay bag and went to fetch water from the well. All of his movements were deft and controlled; oh how he reminded her of Athos as a boy - so quiet and studious, always wanting to do everything to the best of his ability.  
"Would you be so good as to look after Tilly as well.....to help me?" she asked him. His shining eyes and nodding head told her that he had been hoping she would ask and felt proud to have the honour bestowed upon him.

She left him and wandered back towards the main house. Her eyes travelled around this far side of the grounds. Under a large oak tree, close to the stables she could see a mound of earth with small stones surrounding it. Making sure that she wasn't being seen, she ventured towards it and saw that wildflowers had been placed carefully on it together with a small, wooden plaque. The letters MAMAN had been crudely scratched into it.

When she entered the house she could not see the boys, but heard scraping and banging from up the stairs. She didn't feel comfortable alighting to the second floor of the house without an invitation, so she instead busied herself with small jobs in the main room - she gathered and disposed of the breakfast pots and crumbs and found a cloth. She spied a pot which could be used on the fire and set some water on it, using the warm result to wipe down the table, bench and anything else she spotted which had a layer of dust upon it.   
Opening her saddle bag she found her sewing materials and began to stitch together a tear in one of the drapes at the window.

After some time Athos appeared from upstairs; he immediately noted the clean and tidy surroundings and nodded his approval, which she returned.  
"If you'd like to....." and he gestured with his arm towards the staircase. She picked up her bags, which he effortlessly removed from her grip so that she could grip her skirts to ascend the steps.  
Upstairs she could see there was more room than she had feared; there were 3 doorways, each with a basic, but effective wooden door and latch. One remained open and he could see that the boys had a cot bed which presumably they shared. She could see that they were happily playing with their sister.  
He opened the door of one of the other rooms, and indicated for her to enter.  
Inside was a basic rope and wooden frame bed base, a wooden bench and a chest. there was a small window with a wooden shutter, which was open allowing in both light and warmth.  
"I'm afraid I don't have another mattress yet," he winced, apologetically.  
"Oh no.....I can attend to that myself. I have become quite skilled at making  mattresses....being in prison has taught me more skills than a governess ever could," she smiled. "I find I enjoy doing things much more than sitting and sewing endless tapestries or playing the harp."  
She looked down at her gown. It wasn't exactly fancy, but it was clearly inappropriate for life on a farm.  
"I have some money....just a small amount. Is there a market where I could acquire some more appropriate things? I'm afraid I couldn't bring very much, only what I could carry."

Athos informed her that he could take her to the village nearby where she would likely be able to find what she needed.  
"I'll leave you to.......arrange things," and he turned to leave, almost bumping into the door frame in his self conscious state.  
Eleanor blushed and began to unpack the few possessions she had brought - a nightgown of cream linen, a spare shift for beneath her dress, her wooden comb, a leather pouch containing a small number of coins. She also had her sewing materials, a bible, a small mirror and a tucked into the very bottom of the bag, her small brass dagger and a pendant of sliver and amber hung from a slim, black leather cord.

She thought practically about essentials; she needed to spend her money wisely; it was clear that Athos had very little spare. She was used to living frugally, and she didn't mind at all, she already liked Athos's family. But she wanted to see him look like the Athos she remembered.  
The last time she had seen him she wasn't even sure he remembered her - she'd been sent to France, to learn some ladylike manners her Father had said - and at the age of 13 was very much a beauty. It was at a ball in Fontainbleu  when she'd spotted him - 19, handsome beyond belief with dark, hooded eyes and broad shoulders. He looked so similar to her, and yet the effect was so different on her from when she'd last seen him a few years earlier. Several of the French young ladies were fluttering behind their fans towards him and a couple of other youths around him; her grasp of French had improved considerably and she could make out that they were talking about various ranks, who was a Comte, who was a Duc etc.   
His posture was one of comfortable confidence; he was obviously aware of his charisma, but wasn't attempting to stand out unduly. When he greeted acquaintances he bowed deeply, grasped hands of ladies and delicately pressed his lips to their hands; the way he had done to hers earlier.  
In her memory his face and eyes were filled with laughter, ease and fun.......it was a marked contrast to him now. His expression seemed pained now, as though there was no joy in his life. He looked like a man who had accepted his fate, and that fate was one which no longer held the prospect of love, or light.

On that evening in Fontainbleu she had not spoken to him, she'd been too shy; and anyway, he had been in the company of many other older, more glamorous companions all evening; although she had thought that he'd looked at her when she had been dancing once.   
When she had returned to her bed that evening she had for the first time in her life allowed herself to imagine a man touching her. She'd imagined HIM touching her, imagined her being in the arms that she'd seen around the women he'd danced with, imagined the lips she'd seen pressed to the hands of others instead pressed on her....and not just on her fingertips. She'd been shocked at the effect of this upon her physically - her centre had become tingly and moist and when she'd pressed her fingers there it had felt incredible; so much so that she had continued to explore with her fingers and had found several places which seemed to light  fire within her when stimulated.  
He had been the focus of her very first sexual encounter - albeit self directed.  
She smiled and blushed thinking about it and considered the man he'd become.  
Physically he definitely still had it......but without the spark behind those eyes she couldn't fall for him......he was clearly still in love with Sylvie who was buried just below her window.


	4. A stranger in town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go into the village.  
> Eleanor offers to help Athos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have the start of some nice feelings between them.....

Alighting the stairs she found activity in the yard as the sable horse was being attached to a cart. Athos was directing the boys to fetch various items, including themselves and their baby sister. Jean carried a churn of goat's milk, Armand carried some tools which looked like they had been recently sharpened.  
Having disappeared back into the house Athos returned a few moments later, his linen shirt now tucked into his breeches and a worn, but still perfectly serviceable leather jerkin over the top. He lifted his hand and placed an equally worn brimmed hat onto his head with the steady action of one who has practised this movement thousands of times. He gestured for her to take a place on the driving bench of the cart and would have offered a hand of assistance had she not immediately hoisted her skirts and pulled herself up into the seat herself.  
The flash of her lower legs, although covered with linen stockings and no doubt gartered above her knees, had caused Athos to stare without meaning to and he unconsciously licked his tongue over his lower lip.  
With everyone piled into the back he clicked the reins and drove them assuredly the short distance to the village. 

It was clear when they were approaching it, probably after 2 miles she thought, as there was an increase in the number of people, both walking and on horses. Several nodded in greeting and Athos either chucked his chin or in some cases tapped his hat in recognition.  
The village itself was quite substantial with quite a few stone properties - she noted there was an inn, a forge, a huge bread oven in the square as well as a good many other stalls set up along the roads.  
Athos stopped the cart and alighted gracefully, tying the reins up to allow freedom for the mare's head. Eleanor was using her heightened position to scan around the scene so his appearance below her with outstretched palm made her jump a little, but she gathered her herself and clasped his hand in hers, placing her other hand onto his shoulder as it reached this location on her descent. Her eyes rested at lip height on him when stood in this proximity, but he moved swiftly to the cart and collected the various tools. The boys scampered out and Armand tried to carry Sylvie alongside the churn, but Eleanor could see he was encumbered,  
"Here, " she reached out and hoisted the baby onto her hip, grasping the chubby fist which waved itself at her, blowing raspberries and cooing.  Athos again made the simple nod of approval for her actions, and they moved purposefully through the general hubbub.  
He made straight for the bread oven where he greeted the baker warmly - although there was little option given the intense heat exuding from it. Eleanor grasped the gist of their conversation, although her French was still at a basic level - it appeared that Athos had skills sharpening blades, which he offered in retribution for bread - the various tools were being returned and a basket of bread immediately exchanged; Eleanor assumed that the loaves would continue 'as needed'.  
Armand had scampered off with the goat's milk and returned shortly after his father had completed the transaction at the bakery, he handed the coins over, grinning and received a ruffle to his hair as reward, although there was no change to Athos' facial expression.  
He caught Eleanor's eye and indicated with his head across the square; she could see a range of fabrics and cloths draped and her mouth formed a slight 'Ooo' shape as she made her way across to it. She noticed that he hung back, resting his back against the side of the inn, one leg casually bent at the knee, the boot against the wall.

Something in the action made Eleanor giggle and shake her head; was he embarrassed about her selecting garments for herself; or did he consider it gentlemanly to offer her some privacy? Either way it was endearing she thought.

The woman running the business greeted her, warily and curiously - it was evident that Eleanor was not from the area, it was also fairly apparent that she was not a farm girl - her hands and manner of holding herself gave too much away - years of training from being a small child could not be removed by 4 years in jail. She explained her needs and the woman happily spent some time finding appropriate garments, sensing a good sale and potential new customer. She got herself a grey flannel skirt and 2 shifts made of natural linen for beneath it - each had a slight difference to the sleeve which pleased her. She also found a green coloured stomacher top which had attachable sleeves, a russet (or where she came from a madder red) cloak and a pair of more robust leather boots.  
She also purchased several lengths of plain linen as well as some heavy felt.  
The pile of purchases was quite considerable, despite the meagre number of coins needed to complete the sale and she was in the process of looking around to locate assistance when she felt a hand at her shoulder and turned to see Athos heft the bundle up with a slight tip of his hat to the owner - it has to be said that the look of mild curiosity flicked instantly to deep nosiness as soon as she made the connection between him and this beautiful stranger.

The boys were playing with others from the village, a savage game of tag seemed to be in process around the central water fountain, and Athos' boys were on the winning side he noted with a slight swagger of pride. He stored the pile of fabrics along with the basket of bread in the cart and reached across to relieve Eleanor from the burden of Sylvie who whimpered at the loss of the soft, pretty lady, but settled once she snuggled into the familiar scent of her father's neck.  
"I'm going in here for a while," he jerked his head towards the inn. "Don't worry, she's used to it and the owner's wife takes care of her," he added when he saw her glance towards the baby.  
Eleanor nodded; it was too nice a day to be inside a stale smelling tavern, so she wandered around the village and stalls instead. She generated quite a lot of interested looks, she noted that the lady from the clothing stall was moving to other traders and whispering to them. Each trader then glanced over to Eleanor, followed by a glance towards the children playing in the square. It amused Eleanor to imagine what they could be thinking......but part of her wondered what the reality actually was - Athos was a very distant acquaintance, she had had no awareness of whether he was still married when she'd turned up to find him - the last she'd heard was that he'd become a King's Musketeer, but that seemed unlikely now considering his humble existence. He was still incredibly handsome though....  
She bought some things: some hard, tangy cheese; a couple of saucisson and a large flagon of wine which the stall owner offered to carry to the cart for her. He gave her several lascivious glances, particularly in the region of her chest and attempted to make conversation; he remarked about the weather and how it would help the harvest which was due any day now; asked whether she was staying locally or just passing through en route to somewhere else. Eleanor smiled, he was trying to charm her and he seemed a very nice man - rough and coarse, but perfectly nice - so as they reached the cart, which he instantly recognised as belonging to Athos she decided to offer him a titbit which he could share around the village.  
"I'm staying, at my old friends' request, I've not yet decided how long.....but at least until the end of the harvest. Now, thank you sir for your assistance."  
He flushed slightly when she gave him one of her twinkling smiles from below her lashes and shifted nervously from one foot to the other trying to think of anything else he could say to prolonge their interaction. Eleanor fussed slightly with the purchases in the cart, aware of his discomfort and slightly enjoying the sensation of being the cause of it. He finally began to speak, "If you're around maybe.." he was cut short by the presence of a looming figure behind him which he sensed rather than saw.  
He turned into the chest of Athos who stood his ground and glared almost at the poor chap.  
"Do you have everything you require?" he growled, his eyes never leaving the face of the wine owner who appeared to be melting, for want of a better word, due to his proximity.  
Eleanor was mildly amused, it was almost like Athos was staking his claim; like a lion pissing around it's territory....but maybe he was just being cautious given that he knew her chequered background.  
"I'm fine thank you, I have everything I need....for now. Again sir, I am grateful for your assistance," and she flashed him another winning smile. Athos noted it and shifted his gait slightly which made the wine man flinch as if he was scared he was about to attack him, it did however give him an opportunity to retreat!  
Eleanor hitched up her skirt once more and was about to clamber onto the cart seat when she felt two, large, firm hands at her waist propelling her upwards. She gave a sharp gasp and a small smile down towards Athos; but he was striding around the front of his mare, unfastening her reins and settling them before he hauled himself lightly up beside her.  
As he gee'd his horse into movement the trio of noisy, dark haired boys scampered across, waving goodbye to their friends. Armand was carrying Sylvie on his shoulders. Athos slowed the horse to allow them to clamber up, lifting Sylvie with one hand around her belly up above his head before bringing her to rest on his lap, her chubby legs either side of his broad thigh. He rested one hand lightly around her to keep her secure and drove them safely back to the farm.  
Eleanor risked glancing at him several times during the journey. His face appeared more relaxed, but his eyes were still troubled she thought. He'd clearly enjoyed several drinks in the tavern, his masculine scent was now combined with wine creating an intoxicatingly sensual aroma. 

"I need to check on the wheat," he said eventually. "i need to harvest anytime now.....daren't risk losing any of it for rain," he added, looking up into the cloudless sky.  
"Would it help if I took care of Sylvie whilst you did that?" she asked cautiously, not sure whether he'd trust her, or feel it an imposition.  
His jaw flexed slightly, but he nodded, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.  
"That would be.......good, and a help," he added, Eleanor turned her head so that he wouldn't see her grin....she was going to be a help! In turning when she did she missed Athos' face turning towards her. If she'd been looking she'd have noticed his eyes softening as he risked looking at her for possibly longer than he should. He noticed the creaminess of her skin, her elegant hands relaxing in her lap, the fingers languid and supple and her hair, glinting like copper in the sun. She was still as beautiful as he remembered from the last time he saw her.....she'd been in France, he had just turned 19, so she must have been 13 or 14. There had been a ball in Fontainbleu, he'd been there with a number friends from his youth - all in of a similar background, and to his surprise she'd been there, practising her French on various beaus who chanced their arm. He'd lurked behind a column and listened in to her conversation; smiling at her stilted French but bell like laughter. Several other females had dragged him to dance and he'd not had the opportunity to speak to her all evening; he had thought she was possibly avoiding him. Later in the evening he'd stared at her, transfixed as she danced. Her gown had been cut remarkably low, her bosom pressed high against the blue fabric band of her gown. When she travelled from her partner across the floor in a light skipping step he'd felt his arousal in his breeches and his breath catch in his throat as her breasts seemed to create their own skipping rhythm. He glanced down at her bodice now and imagined the flesh beneath....it was a long time since he'd thought in that way about any woman.....he'd had many opportunities since the death of Sylvie, several women from the village had made their desires known to him, but he'd denied himself that pleasure; in fact all pleasure in that department....he hadn't even used his own hand on himself since......

The wheel of the cart hit a rut as he had let it drift slightly off the track due to being side tracked himself. He focussed strictly on the route from then on until he drew up in front of the house once more. He passed the baby back into the cart, to Isaac's waiting arms, plopping his hat down on his giggling head, and leapt from the cart, almost running around the rear of the cart in order to be beside Eleanor as she made to alight. He lifted up his right hand and met her eyes with the briefest of smiles beginning to filter from his lips to his entire face. She took the proffered hand in her own, meeting his gaze, and reached down to his shoulder with her other hand, shifting her weight as she swung from standing on the cart to the ground. He shifted his hand from hers to around her waist as she descended, which pulled her closer into his body a she landed lightly and securely next to him.  
He noticed that her breathing was deeper and more laboured, but she'd never dropped her eyes from his......and he was aroused by her.  
She noticed that his breathing was deeper and more laboured, but he's never dropped his eyes from hers.......and she was aroused by him.


	5. Eleanor gets to work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor decides to show her gratitude to Athos......by sorting out his home and kids!

Sylvie's cries broke the mood and forced them to almost leap apart from their proximity beside the cart. Athos cleared his throat and gave some simple instructions to the boys; each had a clear role to perform and moved to complete it without argument whilst Athos himself hefted most of Eleanor's bundles and his daughter into his arms and strode towards his house.  
Eleanor picked up several of the items remaining; she placed a few of the other food items into the basket alongside the bread in order to empty the cart more quickly.  
She placed her items onto the large wooden table but not being able to see Athos she ventured up the stairwell, taking the remaining fabrics with her.  
The door to her room was open and she could see he had placed her things onto the wooden chest, next to her dagger and mirror.  
The door to his room was also open, and she could hear his voice, softly and warmly comforting Sylvie, hushing her and calming her whimpers. She took a couple of steps across the small hallway and peered into his room. It was almost identical in size to the one he'd allocated her. It contained a bedframe with a thick mattress, a tressle containing a washing bowl and a few other small items, including several books she noticed. He was sat on a simple wooden chair under the window, leaning over the small wooden crib which contained his little girl. His demeanour was so familiar it caused Eleanor to stifle a gasp. He was tickling and cooing over her, amusing her the way he had done to her when they'd been a tiny girl and a little boy so many years ago.  
The realisation that he was treating his daughter the way he'd treated her also caused a dramatic shift in her feelings towards him......he viewed her in a protecting way, not a sexual way. He wasn't attracted to her, he was just acting like a father towards her.  
She withdrew and went into her room, closing the door behind her. Slowly she undressed, removing her gown. She folded it carefully and replaced it with her new grey skirt, green stomacher and sleeves and sturdy boots. She would stifle any feelings she felt towards the man whose home she was sharing and instead endeavour to be useful to him. The last thing he needed was a further burden.

When he appeared from upstairs he had removed his leather jerkin, he was greeted by the sight of Eleanor preparing bread, cheese and sausage in his kitchen as a meal. She glanced at him and he was momentarily taken aback by her appearance.....if anything she looked more attractive than ever to him, but he tried not to let the mask of control fall from his face.  
She moved gracefully towards the door and shouted, "Boys, wash your hands and sit at the table," she turned and addressed Athos, "Go and wash your hands please," and continued taking wooden plates across to the table.  
She had set places at the head of the table, using the 'decent' chair clearly for Athos, but had placed 4 other settings along the longer sides. She was cautious about where she should sit, not wanting to take a place which had sentimental value in relation to their mother, but when the 3 boys scampered in they automatically selected 3 of the places leaving one to the right of Athos available for her.  
Their excited faces showed that they had not been used to eating in this manner alongside their father, at least not recently. Jean went to grab a hunk of bread, but his twin brother tugged at his sleeve and admonished him with a kick under the table, Armand glared across at him, willing him to show the manners their mother had instilled in them, but he'd had more practise than them.  
Athos took the place which was clearly arranged for him and his comfort - slices of rich, greasy salami and a cup of wine, which he noted had been watered down, within easy reach. He waited for Eleanor to join them, he was slightly shocked when she clasped her fingers together and lowered her head - he quickly flicked a wordless instruction around the children to follow his lead. He bowed his head and muttered a clearly unpractised, "We give thanks for the food provided for us and.... ask for strength to.....carry out our duties. Amen." Armand whispered Amen, the younger boys exchanged a brief glance around the table, Eleanor smiled and repeated her Amen and indicated that they could commence eating.  
She took bread and transferred slices of the hard cheese and salami onto her plate before handing the cheese to the boys who took a slice each alongside their bread. They tucked in with gusto, as did their father.  
Eleanor had never enjoyed silent meals, so she began to ask general questions about the area, the farm and the harvest which all of the children could join in as well as Athos. The meal was comfortable and Athos enjoyed the presence of his family around him, they all lingered over the table savouring the relaxed nature of their father, the pleasant presence of the stranger, and for the adults, the easy companionship of an equal.

Athos eventually dismissed the boys with a flick of his head and the simple instructions, "Armand, see to Adila (his mare), Isaac the goats, Jean the water." The boys made to leave their benches, but a gruff cough halted them. Each turned to face Eleanor, Armand spoke for them all, "Thank you M.....Madame," he ventured, and received a small wink and smile from his father.  
Eleanor inclined her head to them, "You must call me Eleanor. Now......work hard," and she stood herself, shooing them out of the doorway with a brisk clap of her hands and a whisp down her skirts to remove any vestiges of crumbs.  
Athos sat leisurely and watched her confident movements around him. Her manner and face seemed different to earlier in the cart, and he noticed that she didn't seek out his gaze, which he had to drag away from her several times when he realised he was staring.  
"May I take straw from the stables for a mattress?" she asked, matter of factly, stacking the wooden plates in order to wash them outside.  
"Of course, whatever you need. There are some fleeces in the attic stable, ask Armand to fetch them for you....he seems eager to please you," they exchanged a quick smile; Athos had seen his eldest son's adoring eyes brighten whenever Eleanor had listened intently when he spoke at the table.

I should be back before the sun starts to fade, I'll check my crops first, then I'll be assisting Monsieur Martin with his....he started harvesting yesterday....we all lend a hand to each other," he explained. "Sylvie is sleeping....."  
"Yes, I'll check on her. Go on....be off," she retorted and then she was already carrying items to the trough outside for washing.

Athos headed out to his crops feeling lighter in his step. He allowed his mind to wander through the events of the day....and he smiled.....he smiled even behind those hooded eyes.


	6. Plans and ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor makes a mark in the house, and has an idea about a regular income.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor also has a few naughty fantasies and Athos spies a fleeting glimpse of her causing naughtiness of his own.

Eleanor worked her way around the downstairs room. She tidied, cleaned, shook out and mended, she also made a mental list of items which would improve the comfort of the home - a rag rug would be comfortable infront of the hearth, there should be a curtain behind the main door to prevent draughts in colder weather and a rush mat outside would cut down on mud brought into the house.  
She ventured upstairs to the boys' room and found a selection of tatty clothes - some were fit for nothing but scraps (the making of her rag rug!) , but others needed a thorough wash before being checked for fit. She gathered them up together with some of the linens from their mattress and looked into Sylvie. She was still slumbering deeply.  
Eleanor located a large pot, filled it with water and set it upon the hearth fire, topping up the wood and waiting for it to heat through. She transferred some to the trough out in the yard and pounded the clothing items and bed linens. She found a basic fat soap which she used to remove the stubborn stains and rinsed each item thoroughly.  
Armand came from the stables and she mentioned the fleeces which caused him to trot off again, returning some time later laden with scruffy, but serviceable fleeces.  
Jean returned with armloads of wood, and she asked him to help her hang the items onto a line of rope to dry in the sun.  
Isaac was the last to reappear, he was laden with a churn of goat's milk, plus a pail of cow's milk.

Eleanor surveyed the amount and asked what happened to it. Armand explained that they used most of it but sold a pail full of goat's milk each market day to Monsieur LaTurenne who turned it into cheese.  
"Some days we have lots and lots and when it is hot it goes nasty, so sometimes we give it back to the animals!" Armand explained.  
"Do you ever make cheese?" she asked them. The boys shrugged and Armand shook his head.  
"I don't know how to," he said honestly.  
"When did your goats last have babies?" she asked. Armand explained that it had been a long time. Eleanor nodded and told him that this was the reason why the amount of milk was so low.  
"Who do you know who has a billy goat?" she asked them. Isaac told her that their neighbour had one.  
She told the boys to go down to the stable and fetch 1 of the goats. She told Armand to tell their neighbour that they wanted to mate their goat, to wait, then bring it back.

It was a long term plan, but if she could get a couple more mated their milk yield would increase, and she had learned how to make cheese when she was a girl!

She used the thicker felt fabric to create a thick mattress for her own bedframe, using some of the fleeces and straw - it was warm and helped to keep bugs at bay. She also added handfuls of lavender which grew in messy purple clumps along the road.   
She had another idea as she collected it.....one which may be a slightly quicker solution to the issue of creating some income for the household. She'd need to buy some lye and some fat, but she should be able to make a fairly decent soap from the goat's milk, and she wouldn't need much.

Eleanor spent the next few hours tearing and stitching the pieces of linen she had purchased into covers for her bedframe. The edges all needed turning and stitching, which would take time, but she would be able to sleep below them in the meantime.  
She measured the boys against the selection of clothes she's washed, several items still fitted, others were too small, but would be perfect for Sylvie to use shortly, others could be sewn and adapted to make other garments. A few were just too small or unsuitable, so she set the boys to work tearing the fabric into small strips, along with some of the rags she'd washed. She found some small wooden bodkins in her sewing kit and showed the boys how to knot, twist and pull the fabric. By turning the strips around and pulling them through each other and attaching a new piece with a knot, they became secure, and created a circular rug. Isaac's nimble fingers were the best suited to this task and he diligently worked on, enjoying how the shape grew.  
Armand and Jean were better put to work replacing their bed linens, now clean and dried. She fed Sylvie with some pap made from milk and bread and set her down on the now clean downstairs floor to crawl around.   
She prepared bowls of warm milk and toasted bread on the hearth, spreading it with a scraping from the duck fat jar she'd located in the small larder when she set down the milk. They ate greedily and the younger boys started to yawn.  
Eleanor requested that they take off their clothing for her to wash it, and also insisted that they clean themselves using some more of the heated water she'd been boiling all day. She made them scrub themselves with the fat soap and a cloth too and brought clean jugs to douse them and rinse the soap from their hair. The yard was temporarily filled with shouts and laughter as they giggled and frolicked in the grimy suds, but they were clean.  
After they dried themselves on rough linen she presented each with a basic, but new, nightshirt which she had made - rather basically and quickly, but again she'd tidy up the hems and cuffs over the next couple of days. They regarded the items as it they had been given the finest gold threaded cloth garments and dragged them over each others' heads.  
Clean, clothed for bed and fed they went off up to sleep and were snoring contentedly within moments.  
Eleanor bathed and changed Sylvie and used one of the old garments from the boys to create a make shift sleeping gown for her. She cooed happily and drank down a final feed of warmed milk before starting to doze. She used the bread basket and filled it with clean linen and fleeces so that the baby had a place to sleep downstairs. She was dozing next to the fire when Athos returned, as promised, just as the sun started to fall in the sky.

He was warmed at the image of domestic calm which flooded through his home; he also noticed that she hadn't touched any of his own belongings - the boys' clothing and bedding was fresh, clean and in some cases new, whereas his was all as it had been earlier. He ate the same meal as his sons had done earlier, although she also prepared a crude omelette using 4 of the eggs collected by Jean earlier. He was grateful for hot food, despite the warm day. He drank a glass of the wine Eleanor poured for him and poured a second for himself which he took out to the stables.

Other than to say thank you to her he'd said very little. She had asked about his harvest and he explained that he'd be starting tomorrow, meaning he'd need all of the boys with him.  
In return she told him that she had arranged for one of the goats to be mated and asked about lye. He'd given suitable responses, but they hadn't had a conversation in the way they had done earlier.

She went out to the water trough to wash the items they had used and glanced across to the stables....Athos wasn't there. Instead she spotted him under the oak tree, beside the flower strewn grave labelled MAMAN. He was crouched on his haunches, elbows resting on his knees, the wine goblet dangling from his fingers. Eleanor felt a little guilty watching him and decided to slink away inside.  
He was clearly still in love with her; she felt a stab of envy - nobody had ever loved her in that way, and at her age it was unlikely for them to start now - but she shook away the feelings and picked up her sewing, working on repairs to Armand's breeches.   
Having finished the breeches and also repaired a tear to Sylvie's smock there was still no sign of Athos. 

She wandered back outside, he was no longer beside Sylvie's grave, she could see light within the stables and she could hear grunting from within. As she got closer she could hear shouts as well as thumping and banging. Through a crack in the wooden door she could make out Athos, his hair was drenched in sweat and he was wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, which was hanging loosely outside his breeches. In his right hand he held a rapier type blade. He positioned himself at one end of the stable and raised the sword. He moved gracefully and with considerable control along the floor, whipping the blade around and stabbing it into a straw sack suspended from the other end of the room. Eleanor could not draw herself away from the sight of him, on the one hand she felt incredibly safe knowing that she was sharing a house with someone so confident using a sword, so fit and so strong. But on the other hand, she felt terrified of sharing the same house as someone who aroused such deep desires within her core....especially when his shirt was falling from his shoulders, revealing a swath of dark hair on his chest. She would be sleeping across the hallway from him.  
She doused herself with cold water from the well bucket as she made her way back inside. She gathered up Sylvie in her basket and carried the baby upstairs, settling her in the wooden crib beside Athos' bedframe.  
She undressed and pulled the cool linen nightdress over her head enjoying how it felt against her skin.  
She stood at her open window breathing in the cooler night air. She looked at the cloudless night sky and the millions of stars speckled across it and tried to remove the images of Athos in the stable from her mind, but she couldn't.....her imagination was allowing the images to develop; he noticed her watching and dragged her inside; he threw down his sword and pressed her against the stable wall, his firm hands holding her wrists above her head; and in her fantasy he lowered his face to hers and kissed her in a bruising attack along her lips, jaw and neck. 

Out in the yard Athos was making his way back to the house, he noticed the light in Eleanor's window and glanced up to catch a glimpse of her auburn hair, creamy shoulders and firm breasts visible beneath a flimsy linen nightgown. He shook his head and flexed his neck; exhaling sharply and when he looked back she was no longer within view, and her shutter was closed.  
He mounted the stairs and saw the light extinguished beneath her door - he paused for a split second just outside her room - before entering his own room.  
He removed his breeches and boots and collapsed onto his bed, lying on his back, aware of the arousal beneath his shirt hem.  
Across the hallway Eleanor allowed her fingers to graze over the fabric covering her breasts, feeling them stiffen despite the warmth within the room. She closed her eyes and imagined his fingers there instead of her own. A warmth flooded through her core and pressing her fingers to her mound she discovered she was wet and sticky and that the touch of her fingers eased the need within her. After a few moments she felt a wave of emotion rush through her and by grinding her cunny into her palm was able to release her pent up desires along with a slight cry.  
Athos heard the bedframe creak and a soft whimper from Eleanor's room from his position in his own......she was clearly crying with relief; being imprisoned, escaping a hideously brutal attack.....of course she would cry with relief - she was now safe and in his protection. Of course she'd want him to protect her....he had been a Musketeer, that was obviously why she'd sought him out for sanctuary. But he could not rid his mind of the image of her at the window, a glowing background making hr shift almost sheer....it was a long time since he'd seen a womanly form, and hers was particularly alluring. He allowed his hand to investigate his erection, which was rampant and showed no sign of subsiding. Wrapping his firm hand around his hardness he moved up and down it's length; his head tilted back, his eyes closed and his jaw flexed in concentration. By quickening his pace he felt a surge of heat to his groin and a few more firm strokes resulted in a spurt of warm, milky liquid across his belly and a husky groan of release.  
Eleanor heard a sob from his room.....he'd been to her grave......how could she possibly compete with the mother of his children whom he so clearly adored?

They slept; satiated from their own hands, but completely unsatisfied in the wider scale of things.


	7. In the fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvest time, Eleanor takes the men folk a midday meal in the fields and is greeted by an image which she will be unable to erase from her mind....(in a very nice way!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I have unashamedly stolen this idea from the dramatization of Poldark! A shirtless, scythe wielding Athos sweating in a field of wheat.......and sigh!

Eleanor woke in the unfamiliar room with the sunlight sneaking through cracks in her shutter. She could hear movement and the pattering of small feet outside her door and knew that she was not the first awake in the household - she would have to get used to being an early riser, especially when it was harvest time!  
She dressed quickly, putting on the same grey skirt and green stomacher as yesterday. She added the other shift beneath it so that she could wash the other and dry it, but she did not attach the tied on sleeves today - it seemed warmer than yesterday, and she didn't plan on leaving the farm.  
She twisted a scrap of cream coloured linen into her hair, sweeping the front back from her face, save for a few curling tendrils and tied the ends under the short locks at her neck.

When she descended the stairs she found all of the children plus Athos at the table. Sylvie cooed and gurgled in her basket, she was sat up with Athos feeding her the same porridge they were all consuming. It smelled appealing and Armand immediately jumped from his seat to fetch a plate and spoon for Eleanor.  
"Early start for the harvest," Athos indicated as he rose and filled a leather flask with liquid from a large bottle (it looked like cider, which made sense since she'd seen apple trees growing in one part of the grounds around the stables).  
She noticed from her seated position that he was wearing different breeches; they were a thinner linen, khaki green in colour, and fastened around his waist with brown leather belt - it was detailed and patterned, and she guessed had belonged to him for a long time judging by the wear and grooved notches visible along it. His cream shirt appeared to be the same one he'd worn the previous day and it was slightly damp, presumably he'd doused himself with water from the well whilst wearing it like she'd seen him do the morning of her arrival.  
"Will you be gone all day?" she asked, certain that harvesting took a lot of work, but in actuality being somewhat naïve of the process.  
Athos nodded at her, "Yes, we'll work until the sun goes down....once started we need to gather as much as we can before it rains and ruins the crop," he looked over at Sylvie, "Good idea with the basket by the way."  
Eleanor laughed, "She's a weight!" she licked her spoon, "I'll bring some food at midday if you like?" she suggested.  
Athos nodded and a brief smile flicked across his face, "That would be kind....although I'm afraid there will be no little helpers for the animals today.....milking...." his voice drifted off, but Eleanor's took over.  
"No matter, we girls will do our best, won't we little one?" and she scooped up the baby as the boys followed their father. He picked up his battered, leather hat and allowed Armand to drive the cart which contained scythes, pitchforks and his brothers. Athos turned in his seat and flashed a smile in the direction of Eleanor stood at his door with his daughter perched on her hip......she'd fixed her hair differently.....she looked pretty. It was a pleasing thought to go out to a days work knowing that she would be waiting when her returned, making his home and his life more comfortable.

Eleanor watched the cart leave her view and turned her attention to her small, but heavy charge.   
"Now....how shall I milk a cow carrying you?" she pondered aloud. She wracked her memory and went upstairs to locate a shawl which had been in her saddle bag. It was a long woven stretch of fabric. She checked it's size around her waist and nodded to Sylvie, "Up you go little thing, she wrapped her securely in the centre of the shawl and pulled her up to rest in the small of her back using the long ends of the shawl to wrap across her chest and fasten under the baby's weight in a knot. It left her movements relatively free, and as long as she remembered the additional weight at her back it was quite comfortable,  
"Alright back there?" she asked, Sylvie blew a raspberry noise back and gurgled happily.  
Eleanor set out to the stables for milking duties first. The cow was simple enough and a pail full was delivered. She topped up their water and feed and moved onto the goats. Only 3 had udders large enough to yield, so she worked her way through each and poured the meagre amount into the churn. She set the cow's milk into the cool larder, but took the goat's inside - she would make a cheese from it to test her skill; she'd seen vinegar in the pantry cupboard and there were lemons growing outside.  
She let the goats out to graze on the lush grass beneath the apple trees, and picked several of the lower hanging ones thinking that they would be a welcome snack to quench thirst from the fields. She placed them in the larder to cool them and went to gather the eggs from the chickens. She collected 9 and added them to the others in the pantry, carefully bringing the older ones to the front of the flat tray.  
She stoked up the fire in the hearth and set the milk onto heat, adding some vinegar and lemon juice to split the curds. Whilst watching the milk she eased Sylvie from her back and placed her onto the floor where she could crawl around, and hopefully tire herself out. She gathered together flour and fat and created a ball of pastry which she rolled into a pottery plate, setting it upon the griddle and covering it with a terracotta lid to bake it. Whilst waiting she mixed together several eggs, scooped the thick cream from the top of the pail of cow's milk and set it aside. She sliced a little of the salami, and hard cheese which remained from her purchases at the market and scooped up Sylvie in order to search the small vegetable plot for additional options. She found some firm but small onions and some red chard leaves which would be ideal and returned to the kitchen.   
Checking the pastry she was happy with the result and poured in the meat, cheese, chopped up onion and chard before pouring over the eggy liquid and returning it to the make shift oven.  
The goat's milk had separated nicely, so she strained off the solids, added a sprinkle of salt and left the lot to drain in a cheese cloth which she's washed in the trough outside. The quantity of milk had only been enough to make a small cheese, but it would be a might tastier and fulfilling to the stomach than a small glass of goat's milk!

She laid Sylvie down for a nap and scooped up the clothes and nightshirts discarded by the boys, plus some cloths they were using as towels. She paused before considering whether to deal with Athos' breeches, would he be grateful or angry? She decided to risk it - he clearly had limited clothing, so an opportunity to launder the items he had needed to be pounced upon when they became available. She treated each item the same; pounding it against the stone, tackling tougher marks with the crude soap, but she also added sprigs of lavender to the water she used to rinse them before hanging them in the warm sun to dry. Her stomacher was damp from washing, and slightly marked from her cooking attempts - part flour, part fat, part cinders from the fire. With nobody around she risked removing it, enjoying the freedom around her waist and chest and gave it a clean along with the other items. She noticed the sun was almost overhead, she needed to think about making her way over to the boys with some refreshments.

She packed up a sturdy basket with the flan (still warm), the last of the sausage and cheese, some bread, the apples and a leather flask of wine watered down with water she'd also cooled in the larder.   
Her top was not dry, so she went upstairs and put the simple linen underslip she had worn beneath the shift of her gown on. It gave a little support to her bosom, but also ensured that when she put the shift back ontop it wasn't see through. She fastened her skirt over the fabric and regarded herself; she was going to be wrapping the shawl back across her front, so it would act like an extra layer of clothing.

Sylvie had woken, so she fed her first with milk and bread pap then hoisted her up into the shawl on her back, carried the basket and a churn of cool, watered down cow's milk and set off towards the direction she'd watched them making for earlier that morning. It was quite a walk, and she was carrying quite a weight between the food and Sylvie. Combined with the warmth of the midday sun Eleanor found herself sweating lightly, making her skin shimmer; but she could hear male voices - she recognised Athos' deep baritone but heard several others whom she could not place - evidently it was a matter of all hands on deck during the harvest.  
Eleanor turned off the path and waded across the field, waist high in golden wheat towards the voices and movement she smiled in the knowledge that she had almost reached her destination and that she'd be able to put down most of her burdens, but she almost stopped in her tracks when she got close enough to take in the full scene.  
The grown men were shirtless and her eyes were drawn to the masculine torso of Athos as he skilfully swept the scythe across the base of the wheat in a rhythmical action. His broad back was glistening with sweat and she could make out each muscle working and clenching, almost bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. She stared at the various scars visible, all healed, but a wealth of questions and stories begged to be told by them. Her eyes had swept down to his hips, his stance was wide, his boots firmly rooted into the ground and the fabric of his breeches was damp, making it cling to the shape of his muscular buttocks and thighs beneath.   
Eleanor felt like a fire had ignited within her groin and her knees almost buckled when he turned around fully and she saw his chest and face. Sweat trickling down his chest had made the dark hair there more noticeable; it highlighted the shape of his pectoral muscles and as he took a few paces towards her she caught sight of his small, burgundy nipples amidst the thatch.   
Finally she noticed his face; covered with sweat; he used his hand to drag the wet hair from his face and brought it around his neck, wiping it on the rear of his breeches. He was smiling broadly at her. Eleanor had never felt more aroused in her life.

Athos had not noticed her approaching, it was Guy from the neighbouring farm who had flicked his head in her direction making him turn and see her. He was dripping with sweat and ravenous for food and for his thirst to be quenched, and the sight of her walking through the wheat was like a glass of cool water. She'd paused he noticed - perhaps she felt unsure about their half dressed state - so he moved a few paces towards her. He noticed that she wasn't wearing a stomacher and her breasts appeared more prominent and rounded due to the fabric criss-crossing her chest, which he saw was supporting his daughter in a kind of sling. It made his heart leap to think of her practical nature, but also made his loins ache to see the shimmer of sweat across her cheeks and chest. He swept the dripping hair from his face to look slightly more presentable and wiped the wetness on his damp breeches.

He was close enough to relieve her of the basket she was carrying and Sylvie waved her chubby fist at him.   
Eleanor cleared her throat and licked her lips, trying to control her breathing - his proximity to her, semi naked and exuding masculinity was making it difficult.  
"I brought you something to eat," she panted, indicating the basket he was now holding, which was emanating delicious aromas.  
He glanced at the other men who had also taken the opportunity of ceasing their work and moved over to the shade provided by a large tree. Armand, Isaac and Jean had appeared and she handed over the milk to them which they took in turns glugging down, feeling the liquid trickle through their bodies. Athos located the shirt he had discarded earlier and dragged it over his head, sadly, thought Eleanor. She unfastened Sylvie from her sling and used the placed the shawl on the ground to act as a blanket.   
Athos inhaled deeply at the sight of her clad only in her shift, which had fallen from one of her shoulders as she removed the shawl. He could see the ties of a small chemise beneath and could clearly see the shape of her firm, rounded breasts falling in a natural, unencumbered state. She caught his gaze and returned it, trying to see him lounging with his back pressed against the tree trunk, one leg outstretched, the other bent at the knee casually without catching her breath - the image of his shirtless chest and muscular, scarred skin was etched on her eyes and she thought she might never be able to unsee the image.   
She knelt and bent over the basket and Athos swallowed as he saw the dark curve between her breasts. His tongue twitched against his lip, he wanted to reach over and lick the shimmering sweat from her skin, wanted to cup the delicious curve of creamy skin in his palm, wanted to engulf it with his mouth and feel her nipple harden, like his own, from the touch of his tongue.  
She handed him the leather bag of ale and watched as he gulped down cool mouthfuls, noticing how a small amount trickled down his chin - God how she wanted to lick it clean.  
She busied herself ensuring they all had food, the warm flan was a huge success, with the boys making a range of salivating noises and licking each crumb from their laps. The cool apples felt amazing in the warm sun and each boy munched one happily. Athos ate in silence, trying to control the thoughts racing through his mind, and trying to glance at Eleanor in a way which gave him the most opportunity to linger upon her without being noticed.   
He sucked in his breath as he held the cool apple in his palm, he purposefully looked across at her chest and rubbed the green apple with his fingers; Eleanor noticed, and was aware that her breath was deeper and ragged in her chest. He brought the apple to his lips, his eyes never leaving her body, and bit down, sucking the flesh into his mouth. Eleanor's breath caught in a small hitch as his teeth crushed through the juicy apple and she suddenly felt the need to busy her own mouth; she reached for the basket and selected an apple for herself which she ate with more restrained and dainty mouthfuls than Athos' hungry bites.

He could have remained there all day, sitting languidly in the shade of a tree, satisfied with food and satisfied visually by the woman sharing his food.  
"We should get back," he nodded over towards the other men who were starting to continue their roles. The boys leapt up and had scampered over to the cart before remembering their manners, Jean came rushing back and flung his arms around Eleanor's hips, "Thank you for bringing our lunch Eleanor," he gabbled, before rushing off again, energised anew.  
"Thank you," Athos reiterated, "Excuse me, it's warm work," and he crossed his hands over the hem of his shirt, dragging it straight up above his head with straightened arms, the whole movement highlighting the broadness of his shoulders and slightness of his waist.   
Eleanor hummed slightly getting the distinct feeling that he was fully aware of the effect he was having on her with his actions. She watched him saunter over to the other men, pick up his scythe and restart the efficient, torso twisting action he used to cut the wheat.   
She popped Sylvie into the now empty basket together with her shawl and started the journey back to the house, feeling freer without the weight she'd been carrying and also without the restraint of corsetry. She was also smiling inwardly at the effect that her corsetless body had appeared to have on Athos.

When she got back she put Sylvie down to sleep and gathered up some of the sheets she had hastily made and began turning and sewing some of the raw edges. She dragged the chair from inside to the shaded porchway and enjoyed the fresh air and better sewing light.  
Her mind frequently wandered back to the thought of Athos shirtless in the field and she cursed as she pricked her finger several times due to lack of concentration.


	8. I need a shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men return from harvesting. Athos makes a request of Eleanor.

The menfolk returned late in the evening, Isaac and Jean fast asleep in the back of the cart, Armand yawning widely. Athos carried both small boys up to bed, one in each arm while Eleanor finished cooking eggs flavoured with duck fat. She piled up plates and carried them to the table where Armand almost fell asleep eating.   
Athos appreciated the warm food - twice in one day, it was wonderful - and ate heartily, wiping his plate with a hunk of bread. He dismissed Armand from the table with a flick of his head and wrist but captured his son's chin as he passed him,  
"You worked well today," he said sincerely and patted his eldest son on the head. Armand would have grown an extra foot tall if he hadn't been so tired.  
Athos lingered at the table pouring a second cup of wine, he was comfortable in Eleanor's presence and enjoyed watching as she turned hems and her nimble fingers sewed...it was calming, methodical work.  
She was aware he was watching her, but she didn't want to meet his gaze; she was still too aware of his broad body having seen considerably more of it this afternoon in the fields. He was lounging back in his chair, one boot heel resting on his knee, enjoying the coolness of inside the cottage.  
"I assume you will have another long day tomorrow?" she asked without looking up from her stitches.  
He nodded and took a draught from his wine, "Yes, only part of the way done, but today was good.....last year Isaac and Jean were too young to help......" his voice drifted off, and she sensed he was thinking back to the fact that this time last year Sylvie was still beside him.  
"They're lovely boys," she replied, honestly, "So eager and gentle with their sister.....speaking of which," she put down her sewing and went upstairs, returning a few moments later with Sylvie in her arms. He noticed that his daughter was wearing what looked like a new linen smock....and she looked clean and smelled of lavender when she placed her on his lap in order to heat some milk for her.  
It was impressive how much of an impact Eleanor had already made on his life.  
"I'm going to the village tomorrow, I need some lye....I'm planning to make some soap," she added when she saw his quizzical glance.  
"Ask for Madame Drieux.....how will you pay?" he asked.  
"On this occasion I have money, but I'm hoping to be able to swap; lye for the finished soap." She went on to explain her thinking, " The goats need mating to provide a bigger milk yield, so in the meantime rather than drink such a meagre amount I can make cheese and soap....the fat soap is fine for clothes and around the house, but goat's milk makes wonderful soap for bathing....and with all the lavender around here...."  
Athos smiled broadly at her mind, she'd thought of everything.   
"Could I ask something of you?" he asked in hushed, almost self conscious tones.  
"Of course," Eleanor answered, fetching the milk across and moving to take Sylvie, but he instead took the milk to feed his daughter, fingering the delicately made smock.  
"This is new.....you made it?" he noticed her nod and continued, "I have only one shirt.......would you.....could I ask....."  
"I'll need to use it for measuring, if you could leave it for me......" she ventured, "I shouldn't think it would take more than a day or so to make a second one."  
He risked looking up from his attentions to Sylvie and caught her eyes regarding him warmly....she couldn't help it, it was such a tender moment between the huge, muscular man and his tiny, precious little girl.  
Athos rocked Sylvie to sleep against his shoulder, she drifted off to sleep quickly surrounded by his familiar scent and body. He carried her up to her crib and returned carrying his shirt, his naked torso once again before her, but this time in the more intimate and private surroundings of his home. She took it from his grasp, his fingers momentarily grazed her hand and she felt a spark of heat on her skin long after his hand withdrew.  
"I can measure out the shape quite easily," she busied herself opening the fabric, quite alarmed that it still felt warm and slightly moist across the back from his skin. She also noticed that it had been previously darned and mended on several occasions and that the cuffs needed turning, it reminded her of his body - scarred and imperfect, but wide, engulfing and amply fit for purpose.  
He seemed quite shameless about showing his body infront of her and moved seamlessly outside to restock wood by the hearth for the following day.  
Eleanor focussed on measuring out the shape of the shirt, using the table as a guide and focussing on how the smocked sleeves attached to the main part of the fabric. She realised that she would need to purchase some more fabric as a great deal would be needed, he had wandered back inside and placed a leather pouch of coins on the table. "Take what you need," he commanded and stood over her as she opened it and removed several coins - she knew from her previous trip to her friendly haberdasher that fabrics were relatively cheap.   
She closed the pouch and handed it back to his waiting palm. She dragged her gaze up his chest, imagining what it would feel like to drag her fingers through the soft looking hair and glanced up from below her lashes at him, she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.  
"I'm going to sleep now," she whispered, feeling that if she stayed in his vicinity she could embarrass herself.  
He exhaled deeply as she moved away from him sensing that maybe if she'd stayed close to him he would have embarrassed himself by pulling her close to his body and kissing her rose tinted lips.

The thought was on his mind as he slept.  
The thought of his body so close to her own was on her mind and permeated her dreams as she slept.


	9. with my own hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvest time continues, Eleanor goes into the village and makes Athos a shirt.

The sun woke her again and she heard the increasingly familiar noises as the boys scampered past her closed door in their bare feet and the heavier tread of their father in his boots.   
She dressed in her now usual clothes, she wore her full stomacher today with sleeves in readiness for interactions with villagers. She was surprised so see only Isaac and Jean in the downstairs room, Sylvie was in her basket and they were amusing her with a flower from the field.  
"Papa is putting the saddle on Tilly for you. Are you going to go away?" Isaac asked.  
Eleanor saw his slightly perturbed look and hurriedly shook her head at him, "I am going to the village, but I shall be home in time to bring you your food in the fields," she reassured him and she caught the two boys share a wink.  
She busied herself fetching porridge, which she assumed must be made by Athos each morning, she was about to eat when Armand came rushing in,   
"No, not yet," he shouted rushing across to her. He thrust his clenched hand out and dropped 4 small, slightly squashed wild strawberries onto her porridge.  
She looked up at his beaming face and opened her arms wide to embrace him, he flung himself into her body and lost himself in the softness of her arms around him....he wanted her to stay forever.  
Athos walked into the scene and was slightly taken aback, wondering if his son was sad and needed consoling as he had done so much after the death of his mother. But he calmed when he saw Eleanor pull him gently away and realised that his son was not sad, but beaming with joy. He was momentarily envious of him as Eleanor's soft hands smoothing his cheeks.  
"You did this for me? You kind boy," she said, making sure she was looking directly into his eyes to show her gratitude. He grinned even wider and nodded, shifting from one foot to the other with barely contained excitement.  
She scooped up one of the precious berries and popped it into her mouth alongside a spoonful of her porridge and made exaggerated faces and sounds of rapture, causing all 3 boys to giggle, then laugh uncontrollably as Sylvie joined in. Athos came in to join the frivolity and acted unaware of their enjoyment as the boys squealed,  
"It's the strawberries!" and "Eleanor loves the strawberries!" and "The strawberries make her make funny noises..."....each outburst causing further laughter. Eleanor scooped one of the 2 remaining berries onto her spoon and held it up to Athos with an arch in her eyebrow.   
"Do it Papa!", "Eat the berry," squealed the younger boys.  
Athos opened his mouth as she advanced the spoon towards his lips. As he bit into the berry he had to admit it tasted delicious, but he played along for the amusement of his children, so he clutched his hand to his heart and dropped to the floor, legs outstretched making ridiculous facial expressions of mock ecstasy. His sons jumped on his torso, Jean clasped one of his legs pumping it up and down and shouting, "Get up, get up!"  
He growled and engulfed them in his arms, showering kisses into their necks, "Strawberries are still not as sweet as you," he rumbled.   
Eleanor felt almost like an intruder to this personal moment of laughter and love, until his eyes met hers in a piercing and intense statement.  
Her breath felt almost painful against her corset and she forced herself to return to the remainder of her breakfast as the boys hauled their father up.

"Thank you for saddling Tilly," she said after wiping her mouth and washing her hands and plates in the trough outside. "Can you help me mount up?" she asked.  
Athos came across to her and regarded her long skirts quizzically, Eleanor hitched them enough to expose her booted foot which she lifted for Athos' firm grip. He noticed she didn't lean forwards into the saddle, but instead pulled herself upwards and back with the help of his hefting arm. She perched on the saddle and swung her leg across in front of her face, making an arc of skirts which fell out across her saddle front, covering her straddled seat. He noticed that the skirt was pulled tight at the back and accentuated the curve of her hips and buttocks. She had a fine seat indeed!

Everyone headed off to their work, Eleanor managed to find the village and make her purchases easily, and again for less than she had thought proper. She enjoyed a discussion with the draper and made several additional purchases from her; she also collected fresh bread, some more cheese and made a deal with Madame Drieux over the lye. She bought a piece of smoked pork to hang in the larder and several of the salamis that everyone seemed to enjoy. A couple of melons were added to her packs as well; she had wanted to buy more wine, but explained to the innkeeper that she could not transport it - no problem, she paid for a cask which the owner said would be delivered, "as normal" and she sensed that Athos was a known and regular customer!

Back at the house she unsaddled Tilly and turned her out into the field with the goats, milked her animals again - Athos had taken Sylvie to the field, she had agreed to bring them a midday meal again and take the baby back home with her. It was faster without the baby around her, but lonelier too. She found a large copper pan and created a fire out in the yard for making her soap. She covered her face with a piece of cloth and mixed the goat's milk with clean, rendered fat (also acquired from Mme Drieux), the lye and as many sprigs of lavender flowers as she could stuff into the pot.  
After washing her hands she made a huge loaf meal, scooping out the inner, soft bread; frying it in duck fat and layering it back inside the crust together with some of her goat's cheese, thin slices of the smoked pork, sliced tomatoes from the vegetable patch and completed with the top crust of the loaf. She placed it, together with one of the melons into her basket. She also added the same drinks as the previous day - watered milk and wine.  
When the soap had boiled to her liking she poured it into a clay mould (she guessed it was intended for seedlings) but it served perfectly to create rectangular bricks of white soap, speckled with purple lavender flowers.  
She tucked one of the bricks into her bodice enjoying the scent wafting from it and checked her appearance before setting off. 

She was more prepared for the scene in the fields, but she still breathed deeply at the sight of Athos' chest covered with shiny sweat. She noticed that they had made excellent progress on the field, so much so that some of the men were shaking hands with Athos and wandering off - she guessed that he was sending them off with thanks for their help knowing that he could finish the job himself. Sylvie cooed and lifted her arms out to greet Eleanor who lifted her up automatically.  
They ate and drank easily in each other's company again, but Eleanor was eager to get back to the house to start working on Athos' shirt. Much as she enjoyed the sight of him stripping the juicy flesh from the orange melon!  
Bundling Sylvie into the basket she headed off, but she turned and risked a lingering look at Athos's muscular back. Sighing she trudged on in the heat.

Once back home she settled Sylvie, who had fallen asleep on the journey and took the soft buff coloured linen she had purchased and started to measure out lengths and tear the fabric to size. The basic shape of the shirt was simple and it was stitched quite quickly. The sleeves were trickier and she cursed several times as she created tiny pleats across the shoulders in order to give the fullness and movement of his other garment. Satisfied with her work she placed it onto his bed. Her eyes and fingers ached, so she collected the eggs and gathered other ripe items from the garden - a few courgettes with their flowers and some more of the crisp, red chard.

Then she waited for them to return home so that she could feed them, wash them and do it all again the next day......she smiled at the simplicity of her new life.


	10. splish, splash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The harvest is gathered and the villagers plan to celebrate.  
> Eleanor finds somewhere to bathe.....but it isn't as private as she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is quite a bit of yearning and fantasising going on from our main characters in this chapter, plus a lot of descriptions about Eleanor and Athos' bodily reactions to her bathing!! (It's a bit naughty!)

Athos had made no mention of the shirt, but as he was harvesting each day in the sun she was quite glad that he hadn't worn his new garment.  
Several days went by in a similar fashion - Athos and the boys left early and spent the day either dealing with their own wheat crop, or assisting another neighbour with his harvest. Eleanor spent her days cleaning, sewing, preparing meals and carrying out other small jobs which she could achieve unaided, such as collecting willow reeds to weave into baskets, and to replace the seating in one of the chairs she found located up in the boy's room and which was worse for wear.  
Each day she was increasingly satisfied with her progress, and being able to focus on less mundane household chores meant that Athos could spend precious moments sorting out other minor household repairs - he fixed the door, hefted logs and split them with alarming strength and efficiency, creating a stack which would be ideal for the colder winter months.  
He was quite shocked by what had been achieved having only had Eleanor's presence for a week.

On Saturday Eleanor started her jobs as usual but noticed that he stayed around the property rather than go into the fields. He spent time in the kitchen garden with the boys, mucked out the stables and chickens and shooed the boys off to allow them the freedom to play.  
Eleanor was stirring soap and he regarded her calm, efficient manner in everything she did. For a someone who had been raised as a noblewoman she had a remarkable adaptability to what life offered her. He thought of his own history and how he had relinquished his title, preferring instead this small patch of his once grand estate which had been gifted to him by the other villagers when he had returned there with Sylvie years earlier.  
He'd been blissfully happy for the first time....no, for the second time....in his life. But this happiness had lasted; she had been dutiful and loving, faithful and passionate and her wilful spirit had always allowed him. He'd been by her side as she delivered their sons and had loved to watch her suckle them, nurture and love them.   
And then it had ended. His happiness had been torn away leaving him a screaming, blood stained daughter, a lover to bury and the knowledge that he would never know the ease and calm he had grown used to again.

And yet he may have been wrong. He had not considered another woman in his life despite the less than subtle attentions he'd been shown by various attractive and in many cases suitable females from the village and further afield. But Sylvie was not the first woman he had loved and lost; he had been certain however that she would be the last.

Eleanor became aware that Athos' gaze had drifted off as he rubbed a sharpening stone along the knives she used in the kitchen, and along his scythe. His mind looked occupied, but his body seemed relaxed, so she continued her stirring.

"There is a celebration in the village this evening," he finally said nonchalantly. "The harvest is all brought in."  
Eleanor's stomach quivered a little....was he going to ask her to accompany them? She looked up from her soap and smiled, "Everyone has worked so hard, it's good that they should celebrate together," she ventured.  
Athos cleared his throat and became deeply engrossed in the blade of a knife, "I think the children would like to go," he added.  
Eleanor turned her head to hide her grin...Athos being so bashful and unconfident was a new one on her, and she found it completely endearing.  
"Then you should take them," she said, wiping her hands down her new apron, and watched a small wince form behind his eyes, before she added, "And I could come to help with Sylvie if you like?" making his jaw twitch into a small smile.  
He raised his face up to hers to offer his agreement, but she was already disappearing inside the house, and the affectionate warm gaze she would have received was instead offered to the blue sky.

Eleanor was excited at the prospect of a village celebration - she assumed there would be food and drink, maybe games and dancing. She quickly gathered her emotions and began the practical task of sorting out suitable, clean clothing for the children to wear - they now had several changes of clothing created by her hands - and deciding on a suitable food offering. they had plenty of eggs so she decided to make several flans, which had quickly become one of the favourite meals of them all.  
She then considered her own attire, maybe she would wear her gown; but perhaps it wasn't appropriate? The celebration was about the harvest being safely gathered, and her gown was not field attire, even though it was only a basic design.  She instead decided on her clean and recently acquired blue woollen skirt and stomacher with her fine shift beneath, the one that she wore with her gown, it was a pleasing and smart compromise but which would ensure that she didn't feel out of place.   
One thing she did want however was to bathe! Her soap had been very well received within the household - the boys liked that it was soft and made washing quicker, and Athos approved of it as a practical solution to a problem of what to do with a meagre yield of goat's milk (he also rather liked the scent of lavender on his skin, but he'd never admit that!) - and they used it daily. She had been building up enough bars to sell at the next market day, at which point she would start generating income to add to the household coffers, and also replenish her own coin purse which was dwindling.

Around midday the boys came running back to the house, each soaked!   
"What have you been doing?" Eleanor asked in shock at their bedraggled state.  
"Fishing by the stream, but we got bored, so we went into the pond for a swim," Armand explained as he stripped off his clothes and shook his hair like a dog.  
"Don't put your other clothes on yet!" she shouted after them as they disappeared inside, "You need them for this evening."  
Isaac's face reappeared, "Are we going to the party?" he asked, his eyes gleaming.  
Athos nodded and received a body slamming hug from the damp, naked little boy who then ran inside shouting the news to his brothers.

The trio emerged wrapped in the stiff linen which they now used as towels in order to eat bread, cheese and radishes for lunch.   
Once fed Athos told them all to go upstairs to sleep, explaining that if they wanted to stay up for the party they would need to rest now, which soothed their complaints. Athos himself saddled Adila and said he had business in the village, he'd be back later in time to change.  
Eleanor sensed that perhaps he was intending to visit the inn again, but said nothing, merely collected the various plates and cups to wash in the trough. Sylvie had been pottering around and had started to become cranky with tiredness, so Eleanor scooped her up and went to lay her in her crib in Athos' room.   
When she entered it she noticed that the wooden chest below his window was open and before she could question her morals she had gone over to it and looked inside.   
She could see various items of leather clothing, all polished well, but clearly unworn for some time, there was also a musket, dagger and belts....and a shoulder epaulette decorated with the Fleur De Lys.......she gasped in recognition....so, Athos really had been a king's musketeer at one time.

She turned her thoughts back to her desire for bathing.....the boys had been swimming in a pond........  
She went into their room, Armand was still awake, his brothers curled up like bookends either side of him. She asked him about the pond and he explained which paths she should take to find it. Eleanor told him to look in on Sylvie if she woke and he nodded, then she leaned over and kissed his brow, smoothing his dark curls from his face.

She gathered a large linen cloth together with a piece of her milky soap and set off down the route outlined by Armand. She found the small stream and followed it into the gathering of trees and smiled broadly when she saw the idyllic pool of clear water, it's surface active with damsel flies. One side of the small lake was edged with dense trees and foliage and the other side flattened to reach the water, a mixture of rocks, small stones and reeds creating a frame to the oasis.  
Eleanor glanced around thoroughly; it felt private, she could in no way be seen from anyone passing; indeed there was no reason for any soul to pass by. She wandered around to the rocks allowing her hand to trail through the wild flowers scattered along the way. She bent to dip her fingertips into the water; it was cool and crystal clear and she caught her lower lip between her teeth at the prospect facing her.  
With a further glance around she started to undress. She removed her corset and skirts along with her boots - she did not wear her stockings these days, unless she was planning to ride. She carefully placed all of the items in a neat pile and picked up her soap, edging slowly into the water.  
She gasped and puffed out her cheeks as the coldness met her thighs, her shift billowing out around her as she inched further. Taking a deep breath she bobbed down and thrust out her arms to float into the centre of the pool making a slight squeal as the water hit her chest. She could feel her nipples harden beneath the fabric of her shift, but it was also delicious to feel weightless in the water.  
She groaned and exhaled, casting her head back and luxuriating at the sensation of floating on her back, staring up at only the blue sky tufted with small white clouds.  
She rolled the soap between her hands and allowed the milky, scented cream to cover them and travel out across the water and her shift.   
Gingerly she felt for the bed of the pond, it was too deep where she was floating so she moved closer to the rocks until she was able to stand. Using the soap she covered herself beneath the saturated gown and delighted in feeling the grime and sweat sloughed from her skin.  
The sensation of her soapy fingers rubbing across her breasts caused a flutter within her, and she felt a warmth spreading through her quim. She allowed herself to picture Athos, the image of him removing his shirt above his head, the clumped hair of his chest covered with sweat, his muscular back and shoulders working the scythe and the sensation of being so close to his naked chest in his house, in the candle light. She allowed her fingers to explore beneath her shift, between her thighs, all the while imagining it was Athos' firm fingers rather than her elegant ones working along her slick folds.  
Before long she was panting and clutching at her erect nipples to add to her ecstasy - she knew how to pleasure herself, she'd been taught how to at French court (she'd also been schooled in pleasuring a man!) - and beneath the cooling waters she brought herself to an explosive orgasm, shouting at the moment of her release loud enough to disturb a few birds from the trees.  
Feeling both satiated and clean she once more floated into the deeper part of the water, languidly drifting just below the surface as the sun warmed her.

Athos was making his way back from the village, his business completed he felt and looked crisper and more virile, and lighter of spirit due to the wine he had enjoyed in the inn.   
A fluttering of birds from the glade caught his eye. He was freshly barbered and perhaps a refreshing bathe would be in order too. He dropped down from Adila's saddle and lead her by the reins along the path to the tree where he knew he would be able to tether her.   
The sound of splashing water and humming drifted into his senses and he moved silently towards the pool, staying close and hidden by the trees, he halted abruptly when the producer of the noises came into view.  
The sun shone directly onto her figure as she lazed, lashes lowered, savouring the warmth. Athos could not help scan her body - he was a man!   
The sight made it patently clear that she was a woman as the shift clung to her skin, almost transparent in the water. He could see the rounded mounds of her breasts peeping above the surface and her nipples standing like pearls atop each. His mouth salivated at the thought of taking one into it and warming it with his hot tongue. Dragging his gaze lower he could make out the raised thatch between her legs, it was clearly fair, a contrast to Sylvie's darkness he briefly thought.   
Her languid softness in the water, her head back in complete surrender to her senses and the sky made him groan deep within his chest and he could feel his erection pressing against his breeches.   
Watching her slip over onto her stomach he pressed his large hand against his solidness above the fabric. She kicked lightly behind her and moved towards the gently sloping bank. As the water became shallower she bobbed down before standing in her dripping shift.  
He exhaled sharply and moved his hand below his breeches to grasp his firm manhood as her body was exposed. He partly wished she would turn, but the sight of the drenched, cream fabric adhering to every curve and cleft of her body was too alluring to ignore.  
He began to stroke his cock slowly but firmly, matching his breathing to the action. She stepped carefully along the stones, his gaze was fixed upon her arse as it moved from one side to the other in keeping with her cautious steps. The sensation of his hand was being slightly marred due to friction, so he spat into his palm and rubbed the resulting stickiness across his tip, mixing the warm juice seeping from it into his length, sighing at the improvement to his enjoyment.  
She reached the larger rocks and sadly for Athos shook out her shift causing him to grunt and pout with vexation, however she turned to face the pool and despite it's looseness the shift remained transparent in the sunlight filtering through the glade.  
The shape of her firm breasts with their deep, rose coloured nipples was evident and he almost sobbed with desire to feel their weight in his hands, in his mouth and pressing against his chest. The speed and intensity of his arm increased and he savoured the vision of her draped across the rocks he had so often laid upon himself, often naked.  
Eleanor felt clean and excited about an evening in the company of Athos. She imagined him returning from the inn where she assumed he would have visited; he'd be more relaxed, he'd smell of wine and his own musky scent....and lavender - she loved the smell on his skin now that he was using her soap - and she raised the bar to her nose, breathing deeply and moaning in pleasurable thoughts once more.  
She dropped her fingers once more to her mound, stroking it above her shift.  
Athos felt like he would explode as he watched her wandering hand and the effect it had on her expression. Her chasteness in relation to her wedding night had convinced him of her maidenhood, but he hadn't considered that her time in France could have educated her in such matters. The knowledge that she pleasured herself and was evidently quite expert in it aroused him enormously.  
He matched his own strokes to he pace of her own, increasing the pace when she raised her knee and arched her back releasing a throaty, high pitched whimper. He felt a tightening at the base of his spine and a spasm to his stomach muscles as he shot his seed into the undergrowth needing several firm strokes to empty himself fully.  
Eleanor smiled and shivered once the intensity of her orgasm had passed.....what a lovely place to bathe.....she'd come again!


	11. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite a sad chapter where Athos recalls life after Sylvie's death - if you are going to be affected by descriptions of children's reactions to the loss of a parent maybe skip this one.

Athos reached the house before Eleanor - he hadn't wanted to prise his eyes from her, but also didn't want her to realise that he'd been spying on her as she bathed.....plus he wanted to make himself look presentable for the evening's celebration.  
He dragged his hand across his recently shaved cheeks and neck, although he'd left a short, tidy beard and moustache along his jaw and lip line.  His hair had also been attended to and although it didn't invade his eyes with every turn of his head it was still long enough to cover the collar of his shirt.  
He had been desperate to wear his new shirt made by Eleanor's hands, he'd scrutinised each stitch and pleat, savouring that have that the fabric would have been held fast between her elegant fingers, draped across her thighs as she fashioned it. He'd known about the harvest celebration when he'd asked her about a new garment and had saved it for the occasion.  
Since Sylvie's death he'd tried not to think about love....he was used to putting women out of his mind, and although he struggled with inner turmoil on a daily basis he could usually keep it under control....the occasional visit to the inn assisting him. He drifted his mind back to immediately after - both times, with both women - when he'd descended into drink as a demonic tool to avoid reality. After Milady it was his musketeer comrades who had pulled him back from the edge, made him realise that he could travel a different path. After Sylvie it was his eldest son, Armand who had dragged him, almost physically back to the realisation that he was needed and could not wallow in self pity. After 3 days of solid drinking and drowning in his own grief Armand had gone to the inn, pulling his weeping brothers behind him and clutching the tiny newborn who he'd tried to soothe as best he could with cow's milk, resulting in her vomiting and excreting a foul smelling liquid. He was trying to be brave and not cry, but his lips were quivering with fright and sadness, and the sight of his drunken father, surrounded by pools of his own vomit and reeking of alcohol and urine almost made him crumble.   
But, he hadn't, instead he'd thrust the stinking baby under Athos's face and shouted angrily and heart breakingly at him,  
"SHE'S SICK.....I CAN'T FIX HER......YOU NEED TO HELP ME.......MAMAN CAN'T HELP ANYMORE SO YOU HAVE TO!"  
It made the swarthy, tough innkeeper and his regulars swallow away emotion and blink eyes that had begun to water. They realised that they had also been complicit in the situation; they'd allowed Athos to wallow and fester without considering the children and they were embarrassed for their own lack of action to support a friend and valuable member of their community.  
Gilou, the innkeeper had gone to Armand, who had started physically tugging at his father's inebriated form, and then broke into boyish punches and pummelling when he realised that there was limited response. He'd gently drawn him away and carried him over to the fireside, sitting him and his whimpering brothers down with a hunk of bread between them, which they devoured.  
Remembering back now Athos could recall that he's felt Armand there, he'd felt the tight fisted blows his small body had delivered, he'd understood the feeling and part of him had wished desperately that his own anguish could be displayed so clearly. He'd sat and accepted the punishment, partly because he was unable to stand, and partly because he knew that his dear boy needed the release.  
This had been a turning point for Athos and the community as a whole; they'd joined forces to support the children -  mothers had seen to the baby and resolved the feeding issue by sharing their own milk for several weeks; wives had gone to the house and cleared the clutter and debris leftover from the excruciating birth, (although they were pleased to see that Sylvie's body had been removed, and the mound of freshly turned earth below the oak tree spoke of a suitable burial). They asked the priest to offer prayers over the ground to sanctify it, and in the end the informal ceremony took place a week later, and a large gathering of villagers, including the sobered Athos and his clean and fed boys attended. At the end of the service Mme Colbert had handed the clean, sweet smelling bundle of baby to it's father, who had looked down and seen, not a reminder of his departed lover and partner in life, but an innocent; who had not asked to cause pain and who needed him. The three other heads looking up at him would always serve as a reminder of Sylvie - their dark hair and complexions, and Armand's deep, almost black eyes where her, here on earth....but this baby, she was much more like Athos, pale, fair and blue eyed.  
"Papa, what is our sister's name?" Isaac asked.  
Until that moment Athos had not considered it; he knew that Sylvie had been considering Ninon, a form of Anne, which for obvious reasons he had wanted to avoid, but he now looked at the spirited little face, full of fight and honesty and thought that the name of her mother suited her perfectly....and that calling her it would not make his heart break with pain, but would help him to heal, knowing that her strength and passion for life lived on.  
"Let's call her Sylvie and then she'll always remember her mama," he said, allowing his gaze to drift to the mound of earth, now strewn with flowers and a wooden plaque 'sculpted' by Armand.

He stood by the grave again now, as he often did; feeling her presence and warmth surround him. He'd found comfort in allowing his sons to grieve for her. When Armand had finally wept in his arms, clinging to him as if he could not bear to be apart from him his heart had melted. He needed to show his son that he was dependable, that he WOULD be there and be the strong one, and that he would never again desert them for his own feelings of pity.  
His attraction towards Eleanor was something new however, and he hadn't quite reconciled his feelings about it. It was natural to find her attractive - she was beautiful both outwardly and within. She was strong, practical and determined - everything he loved in a woman.....and she was wrapped in a deliciously soft and sweet smelling body which he now ached to explore.  
He couldn't quite understand why he didn't feel guilty about his feelings.....Sylvie's body was here; her children were here as daily reminders of their love and it felt disloyal to replace her. Yet Eleanor had slipped into the role of mother in all but name, and so quickly, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be without her.  
It felt natural to consider the next step, but he was reluctant to jump to conclusions about her own feelings.  
She'd come to him for sanctuary; she'd taken on the role of looking after him and his children; but she'd made it clear that she'd not wanted marriage - although she hadn't actually killed her husband, she'd fought off his intentions and made it incredibly clear that she had not wanted a physical relationship with the man she had married in name only.  
And yet he'd just watched as she had.....well......  
Athos made a decision as he wandered from Sylvie's graveside, he would be patient, he would show gentlemanly consideration towards Eleanor.....and if in time she showed more than friendship towards him then he would reciprocate.

But as far as this evening was concerned, he'd make himself look presentable and take his children to celebrate a successful harvest, alongside the villagers who had been there to support him.......and he'd try not to stare at her too much!


	12. Allow me.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos and his family, plus Eleanor go to the village to celebrate a successful harvest.  
> Athos upsets Eleanor without knowing, and her beauty is admired by another.

The trio of boys looked and felt smart dressed in their new, clean shirts and breeches. Athos had ensured that they hadn't romped around too much after getting dressed - he'd put them to work practising their letters on small slates; each was learning how to write their name, and of course Armand, being more advanced was learning the names of everyone in his family.   
"Which letters do I need for Eleanor Papa?" he'd asked, having started with an E and an l he wasn't sure whether to use an 'i' or 'e' next.  
Athos leaned over and deftly formed the letters required to spell out her name which Armand copied carefully.  
Eleanor appeared from upstairs feeling slightly self-conscious as all eyes turned to her at the base of the stairs.  
It was Athos who broke the silence, "Shall we go?" The boys gathered the items Eleanor had prepared, Eleanor gathered up Sylvie, who was looking as pretty as a picture in a new, smocked gown which Eleanor had carefully pleated and stitched using colourful threads. Athos loved it; it reminded him of the colourful bodices the baby's mother had always favoured.  
Athos took his familiar leather hat, and his worn leather jerkin - which looked freshly polished. Eleanor had noted his trimmed facial hair when she'd arrived home - it accentuated his slightly uneven upper lip and somehow gave him an increased air of confidence. She felt a warm glow of pride in seeing how well he looked in the shirt she had fashioned for him. He looked smart, and he felt proud of his family; and also intensely aware of the beauty accompanying them.

The boys clambered into the cart, which Athos had piled up with straw and blankets from their beds. Sylvie's basket was there for later on, but for now Eleanor was happy to hold the little one. Athos propelled them both into the seat beside him with his strong hands grasped around her waist and sauntered around his mare to drive them into the village.   
The noise of celebration could be heard well before they reached the main square, and Athos slowed their pace so that they could call out greetings to familiar faces and so that the boys could jump down and run off with their young friends, "Be careful!" shouted Eleanor after them, Athos adding, "And don't tear your new clothes!"  
Eleanor laughed, "I notice neither of us bothered asking them not to get dirty!" Athos laughed alongside her, "No point!.....They'll find dirt whatever they do!" but she noticed his eyes were gleaming.  
"So....not much different to us at their age!" she smiled.  
Athos knew that she was thinking back to the occasions when they had met as children - their games, which had involved her older brothers alongside him and his brother Thomas, had invariably resulted in romping through mud, or climbing trees. Eleanor had always been indulged and allowed to play alongside them, although on occasions she had been the 'prize' their 2 sided battles had centred around, allowing her to sit and play with her dolls until one team 'rescued' her.   
"Do you remember when you fell in the river trying to jump across like we had done?" he asked, glancing at her sideways.  
"Of course I do.....it was freezing cold and I hope you recall that I didn't blub at all!" she proudly remembered.  
Athos was almost sad that they had reached the centre of the village and needed to leave their conversation, but he jumped down from the cart and deftly fastened the reins. He moved around to help her down, but she instead thrust Sylvie into his arms and jumped down without his aide.  
He considered how pretty she looked as she busied herself with the baskets of food. She'd fastened her hair using a length of cream fabric, swirling it under her nape and across her crown in a style reminiscent of ancient Greek goddesses in his books. Her new gown was blue and made her grey eyes look even more intense, and she was wearing her delicate shift very low, with the sleeves pulled down to expose her shoulders. The dress had 2 rows of ties across the front bodice which ended in small bows at her neckline and she had added her pendant made from amber and silver. She carried with her the same shawl she had resourcefully used to create a sling for Sylvie.  
The villagers welcomed them warmly as they made their way through the various groups and tables set out. Athos indicated a vacant spot large enough to accommodate them all and switched Sylvie for the baskets held by Eleanor. After setting them down he went to shake hands with several of the local businessmen - Eleanor noted that several of them indicated her, sitting with Sylvie and on each occasion she caught Athos make an almost exaggerated look of piety combined with a slight shake of his head. Eleanor tried to ignore the lump in her throat and feeling of disappointment....why should he care for her at all? She'd only renewed her acquaintance with him a week earlier, of course he didn't have any romantic inclination towards her.

He returned carrying a jug of wine and 2 leather cups and set these down alongside the food she had prepared. She smiled at his return, although it was a stiff, forced smile which didn't warm her eyes. He noticed it.  
"I'm going over to Madame Drieux," and she left the bench, taking Sylvie with her. Athos watched her move across to the older woman and warmly embrace her; Sylvie earning cuddles and coos from several of the ladies who came across to join the pair. She had clearly been welcomed into the village and had made a pleasing impact upon the locals.....she was acting oddly though. He detected a slump in her shoulders and there was no sparkle behind her eyes like he had seen in the cart on the way.

Eleanor had needed to leave his presence at the table; she wasn't sure that she could keep tears from her eyes, so she spotted Madame Drieux and decided to go to her. She was as close as she had to a female friend in the village at this stage, despite being significantly older then herself. She felt Athos' eyes on her as she made her way across the square, but she also felt and saw the heads of others turn to her direction also.....it didn't help her mood though.  
The attentions of Madame were soothing, and a small group of other ladies joined them, cooing over the baby and commenting on how healthy she was looking. They talked about the boys and their new garments, each woman wordlessly acknowledging that Eleanor's presence was having a positive impact. Several of the women glanced over at Athos, who was looking pensive seated alone. There was no mistaking that he was still an incredibly handsome and charismatic man, and this evening he was looking downright sexy, despite his current slightly sullen expression - if anything it made him even more attractive.

The innkeeper's wife asked to take Sylvie....she enjoyed seeing the little girl looking so happy and contented and Eleanor was happy to share her, she had enough smiles and sweetness to go around. So, Sylvie wandered before she considered returning to Athos. She nodded in response to various more familiar villagers who smiled and raised cups of wine or cider in her direction., and in time she felt the knot in her stomach subside.   
She found herself being approached by a familiar face, it was Roux, the wine merchant from the market. She had come to understand that he did not live locally, but instead visited the market a few times each month, his vineyard was located an hour or so away. This evening he had brought several crates of bottles to share among the villagers and he approached her now holding out 2 clay cups with a shy, but charming grin on his face.   
"Would you do me the honour of sitting down with me?" he asked, indicating a bench with several people already seated at it, but space for several more. Eleanor almost refused, and almost looked over to Athos, but an image of his expression when clearly talking about their relationship to the other men of the village flashed into her mind, and she instead lowered her lashes, smiled and moved across to the bench, sitting across from Roux.

Athos sat mulling over what could have occurred to change Eleanor's mood so swiftly. Had she been upset at him leaving her side to fetch wine? Was she angry at him mocking her for falling in a river when they were children? Or was it something else completely? He drank one cup of wine, slowly, savouring it rather than guzzling it as he had tended to do in his youth, and when he needed a tool for blotting out pain and reality.  
Villagers came over and began conversation with his, and although he scanned around the square he couldn't see Eleanor.

The church bell began to ring, and the doors flung open to signify that it was time for the religious element of the celebration to commence, and as Athos rose he saw Eleanor being escorted towards the building by the wine merchant, Roux. Athos was momentarily stunned, and felt as if he had received a punch to the chest. But why would she not be an attractive prospect for other men? Roux had made himself known to her on her first visit into the village, and it was clear that some of the inconspicuous questions regarding their own relationship, which had slightly flummoxed him this evening, had resulted in Roux getting the clear go ahead to approach her.   
His daughter was passed back to him as the 3 boys accompanied him into the cool church and they found a wooden pew towards the back of the building.  
"Shall Eleanor not sit with us?" Armand asked, waving over at her on the opposite side of the aisle, several rows in front of them.  
"No, she's sitting with her new friend," he answered, more calmly than he felt, and felt his shoulders slump....the way he'd seen Eleanor's do earlier he briefly thought.  
"But Eleanor is our friend!" Isaac murmured sadly.  
"You'll see her later, I promise," he replied, and fell silent for the rest of the service although his eyes were often upon her auburn curls.

When they emerged the sun had started to set, casting a shadowy glow over the square. Fat lamps, torches and candles were lit and musicians played.   
Eleanor had felt slightly uneasy throughout the church service. When she'd looked around to see them all in their pew it had made her heart lurch a little - they looked lonely; a father and his 4 children squashed onto one pew, and Armand's eyes had looked so openly sad it had been all she could do not to push her way passed the other villagers to reach them. However, when she exited the church into the ethereal beauty of the village square she'd been consumed instead by an overwhelming feeling of romantic longing....and the person by her side, looking at her with adoration was not Athos. She knew that she should have felt pleased at Roux' attentions, but he just didn't stir the same emotions within her as the merest hint of a glance from Athos did.   
"I should return to the children," she tactfully stated, "They need to eat something, and ....." she let the comment hang in the air.  
Roux saw her gaze flick across to Athos, who was propelling his twins, one attached to each leg as well as his daughter across the square. Armand was making his way over to Eleanor,  
"Are you coming to eat with us Eleanor....please?" he asked, holding out his hand in a gesture of endearing chivalry.  
Roux bowed his head slightly and handed her hand to Armand, "Of course she is," he answered, directing the words to the small boy, but his almost pained eyes towards Eleanor.  
"Maybe later....?" she ventured.  
Roux briefly smiled, "Maybe." He then turned towards his table as Eleanor was lead by Armand back to Athos.

"Eleanor's here," shouted Armand as he dragged her, almost running across to them, and they slumped, giggling onto the benches. Jean returned from the cart carrying Sylvie's little basket, and she tucked the baby cosily into the warm blankets, rubbing her hand across the them until Sylvie's eyes drifted closed, despite the noise and frolicking around them.  
The meal felt like many of those the family had shared at home, although the musical accompaniment was new, as were the frequent interruptions of passers by and other villagers, often sharing and swapping food. Eleanor was glad to have brought several flans, and they ended up with a vast array of items on their table, with several other families and groups enjoying one of her savoury flans in return.  
Looking around her table Eleanor's smile became sparkling once more, Athos was pleased to notice, and his own responded in kind, Eleanor was pleased to notice.  
He filled her wine cup several times, although she sipped it delicately as she ate which he knew from his own experience would ensure that she would not become drunk. Eleanor was noticing that the wine was making her feel less in control, she was also giggling more at funny things the boys were doing.  
Athos noticed and was enjoying watching her let go.  
Armand begged Eleanor to dance, and she allowed herself to be dragged over to where people were enthusiastically swinging each other round in reels and sets, although there was less formality than any dancing Eleanor had ever experienced before.  
She thought back to dancing in Fontainbleu and noted how much more freeing and enjoyable it was to skip up and down holding Armand's 2 small hands than it had been to copy and recreate predictable figures drilled into one, with a partner doing the same. This dancing was about expressing a joy for life....and she was joyful about her life now. regardless of whether Athos found her attractive; she was no longer in prison; she wasn't at risk from the unwanted attentions of a man; and she had a safe home, with a man who would protect her.  
Athos had been watching Eleanor and his son dancing - he'd wished he had the simple bravery of Armand, to be able to just ask her to dance - they were twirling and skipping around, her feet dainty and elegant despite the lack of traditional movements being demonstrated. She had a very natural grace and lightness....he thought back to her dancing at Fontainbleu and how much more free and joyful she looked now.   
The end of the song was signified by a long note, during which the male partners hoisted their ladies into the air and swung them around - Eleanor and Armand swung each other in a spinning whirl and when they rejoined the table Athos had to drag his eyes away from her dewy complexion and the shimmering sweat which highlighted the swell of her breasts against her bodice and her deep breathing which accompanied each heave of her bosom.  
Eleanor was conscious of his gaze and again noted how it created a small fire within her.   
The music changed in tempo to a slower tune, which many of the older couples recognised and moved across to dance to.  
Eleanor watched the pairs and recognised it as similar to one which had been danced at court, and was called a peasant dance....it had always been her favourite because after each figure of intricate arm movements and turns the female was grasped and turned by her partner in the air before landing beside him to start the movements again; it reminded her of the pavanne.  
She had been so lost in recollection that her eyes had briefly closed and she hadn't noticed Athos rise from his seat. She opened her eyes as she sensed a form behind her and also heard his deep baritone voice, "Allow me?" he half asked, half commanded, holding out his large palm to her.  
She placed her smooth one on his and enjoyed the sensation of his strength as he brought her to stand and accompanied her towards the centre of the square.  
The boys' eyes were wide - they'd never seen their father dance before!  
They joined the dancers just as the set started again; with a bow and a curtsey before grasping both hands together and crossing them across shoulders, backs, bringing them together, dropping one lose to turn and reclasp in a different hold, all the while remaining incredibly close with only small, backwards and sideways movements from their feet. She was startled at how lightly he moved, and how assured his actions were, and when he dropped her hands in order to grasp her waist she felt his strong fingers securely wrapped around her slim, corseted form, and she gasped as he lifted and turned her, placing her back onto the ground beside him, slipping one of his hands from her to regrasp her fingers, leaving the other in place to guide her around in a spin before they began the series of movements again.  
Athos felt as if he had gone back in time, as if he was a teenager in Fontainbleu and she was a maid of court, dancing in his arms. The main reason he had not danced with her that night was because this dance had not been played - it was his favourite and he knew how to perform it fluidly and skilfully. He enjoyed watching Eleanor now, clearly it was a surprise to her that he could dance, and clearly she was enjoying the sensation of dancing....was it his imagination - dare he hope- that perhaps she was enjoying dancing this particular dance with him?   
The music was designed to create 6 complete passes of the movements, all identical except on the final sequence, the final lift and turn was immediately repeated a further 2 times - something which tested the strength of the male, especially as it was customary to leave the female raised for the final beats and for her to perform a flourishing kick backwards with her legs.  
The final sequence began and Athos and Eleanor had become familiar and confident in each other's movements. They smiled openly at each other, Eleanor's breathing a little laboured given her previous dances and the exertion involved in being flung in the air several times already. He lifted and turned her as before, then repeated the movement exactly, and on the 3rd and final lift, raised her slightly higher, and she found the exact final beat of music to kick out with her left, then right foot, clasping her ankles together in a neat cross as the movement pressed her chest forwards into Athos's upturned face. She felt his breath on her neck and his beard against her chest so briefly; but it made her gasp and his hands flexed around her waist, his thumbs massaging circles into the small of her back.  
He lowered her gently to the ground as everyone cheered the musicians, and somewhat sheepishly escorted her back to the children, who were leaping up and down, Armand was trying to repeat the dance with Isaac.  
"We should probably go," Athos suggested, feeling that the evening could not possibly be improved, and he didn't want to embarrass himself into doing something he would regret.  
Eleanor nodded in agreement and they started to collect their belongings and the children.

Back at he cart they settled Sylvie's basket and the twins under one blanket. Armand yawned and insisted he wasn't sleepy, so Eleanor said she would sit with him in the back, they settled themselves under a second blanket and Athos walked Adila the familiar route home.  
He was the only one awake when they reached there and he was able to remove all of the children from the cart and tuck them into their bed without disturbing Eleanor's slumbers.  
He considered leaving her where she was, covering her with the additional blankets, but felt a shiver down his own back, so he instead lifted her sleeping form in his arms and carried her upstairs. She stirred slightly as he mounted the stairs and pressed her head into his neck, the sensation of her warm breath causing a stirring in his breeches.  
Gently he laid her in her bed, slipped her leather shoes from her slender feet and covered her in a blanket before retiring to his own bed.  
He'd finally danced with her.......it had only taken 20 years!


	13. Apple picking time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of months have passed, time to harvest the apples and make cider.  
> Athos soaks Eleanor by accident and she gets her own back.....or does she?!  
> Some shameless fun!

Two months had passed since the harvest gathering and life on Athos' farm had become a calmer, more organised and efficient routine. There were still crops to harvest - namely squashes and pumpkins, and the back breaking work of turning over the soil and adding manure to fertilise it had begun.  
Eleanor had ensured that 4 of the goats were mated, and staggered over several weeks so that milk yield would be staged also. The first kids should arrive in the new year, but early - the likelihood of survival was slim if the weather was poor, but the resulting milk would provide much needed ingredients for her soap. It was proving to be a popular commodity in the village and Eleanor was proud to be able to add a small amount of income to the family's coffers.

Life had taken on a regularity which Athos found pleasing and easy. He'd been able to make some simple improvements to the house, linked with the increased money and his own increase in time. He had ensured the roof was water tight with the help of some neighbours, and as the apples were ready to harvest he'd asked Roux to assist.

Eleanor had felt a mixture of uneasiness and ardour at his arrival, but he had acted in a purely professional manner towards her; although she did notice he tried not to make eye contact with her.  
Everyone in the family helped gather the apples, Adila and Tilly were strapped to the trees in the orchard and led in alternate directions, creating a solid shaking of the tree and a resultant deluge of fruits tumbling to the ground, which could then be gathered up and placed into wooden crates and hessian sacks by them and the boys.  
Eleanor used her apron to create a method of carrying a bucket full at a time to the central pile, and she sifted out some of the very badly rotted ones, tossing them to her goats.

After stopping for lunch, during which time Eleanor felt more comfortable leaving Athos and Roux to eat alone, they started the actual pressing and collecting of the juice. There was a huge press stored in the stable but the apples needed to be chopped before being spread across the cloths in thick layers.  
Athos brought 2 rapier swords from a chest in the tack room, they were immaculate and obviously valuable as well as incredibly sharp! He handed one to her and demonstrated how to use one to slice efficiently through a full barrel of apples using a few side to side slicing actions. It appeared effortless when he did in, but as Eleanor was considerably shorter, and she discovered very significantly weaker than him it was more difficult for her to repeat. She was determined though, and fetched the milking stool to stand upon, giving her an additional bit of height in order to move the blade more easily.    
Athos nodded his approval upon his return with the empty barrel and suggested that Armand take charge of the barrel she was working on once the main cuts had been made by her, he placed an upturned crate for him to stand on and handed him the blade.  
Armand's eyes gleamed - maybe his father had told him swashbuckling tales of using the sword as a musketeer - but he treated the sword with reverence and care, reinforced by Athos' gentle, but insistent warning to, "Take care with that my boy......we never play with a real sword!"

Once all the apples had been chopped Eleanor went through to the press - Roux had rolled up his short sleeves and his muscular forearms were spreading the fruity pulp in thick layers before wrapping each in a dripping cloth. He instructed her to start washing out the buckets and barrels to be ready for the pressed juice and she followed his instructions, taking 2 wooden pails out to the trough. Athos was there already, although it was only because of Eleanor's ability to identify his legs and backside that she knew it was him - his entire torso and head were hidden inside the enormous barrel he was cleaning out. When he emerged his shirt was wet and flecked with pieces of apples, as was his hair.  
He eased the barrel onto it's side, emptying out some of the water and pulp, then grasped it either end and grunted in the effort of raising it up to tilt it and shake out the last dregs.  
Unfortunately he'd completed all of these actions with his back to Eleanor, who had swilled out her buckets noiselessly, so when he raised up the barrel then icy cold contents and pieces of fruit poured out directly over Eleanor's back as she worked at the trough.  
She screamed as the freezing water saturated her shift and turned, open mouthed to see Athos; barrel frozen in mid air and an expression on his face that wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.   
Eleanor's shivering reaction of wordless sounds,  
"Abbb.......hooo......wha?........yooo...." combined with her dripping clothes at the back, and yet perfectly dry front caused his lip to wobble and a guffaw erupted from his mouth, which he tried to bite away, unsuccessfully.  
Eleanor saw his reaction, a mixture of anger and amusement forming within her at his startled and Atlas like stance, holding a barrel rather than the world above his head.  
"Are you finding this amusing?" she sniffed, her teeth chattering and adding to Athos' amusement greatly. He stopped smiling however when he saw her dip one of her pails into the icy trough and fling the contents in his direction. He tried to dodge and deflect the liquid using the barrel, but once he'd lowered it slightly gravity meant it slipped to the ground and he was caught across most of his chest with the freezing water.  
She waited for his reaction, her own lips twitching in fear of reprisals and her eyes twinkling with mischief.  
"Mine was an accident......YOU did that on purpose!" he spluttered, shaking droplets from his hair and beard like a dog.  
The boys came running out at the commotion and giggled at the sight of both Eleanor and their father drenched.  
"Boys.......catch her!" Athos shouted, his eyebrows raised and a broad grin on his soggy face , and the dark haired trio roared and ran around, easily surrounding Eleanor as she shrieked and ran, hitching her skirts up, being directed by them directly at Athos, who was waiting with wide open arms.  
He grabbed hold of Eleanor, lifting her clean off the ground and slung her across his shoulder, his arm clasping her wriggling legs to his chest. Her head fell into the small of his back as he walked her over to the trough and she pummelled her fists in mock outrage against him - mainly against his back, but also several made contact with his muscular buttocks beneath his soft, leather breeches.  
The boys couldn't decide whether to be on the side of their father or Eleanor, so they were basically just leaping around, pulling on arms, fingers, ankles and legs; and generally enjoying the merriment.  
"What revenge can we take boys?" Athos asked, his voice deep and rumbling as always, but also tinged with humour.  
"Shall we dunk her?"  
Eleanor wriggled, "NOOOOOOO!" she shrieked, "Nooo, no, no.......I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she laughed and panted. "Armand, rescue me!"  
"Right boys, grab a bucket each!" Athos continued, grinning broadly and enjoying the sensation of Eleanor's hands pounding his back and trying to tickle him into letting her go....he could tell she was amused and laughing along, and he also knew he had no intention of harming her.  
"Ready boys!" Athos lowered Eleanor to the ground, maintaining a firm grip around her waist with his crossed over arms pinning her own to her sides. Eleanor was facing them squealing and resigned to her fate of being doused with 3 buckets of icy water.   
"I......2.....3!" Athos deftly slid her around behind his own body which took the brunt of the 3 boys' drenching, soaking his shirt and breeches completely.  
All 3 boys regarded their father with open mouthed shock......he growled like a bear causing them all to shriek and run into the stables. Athos and Eleanor chased them, grabbing them in the soft piles of straw and collapsing into a soggy, laughing, tickling heap.  
When they had all subsided into panting, smiling and messy individuals once more they suddenly became aware of Roux:  
"Is there anyone out there? We're ready to start pressing, bring the buckets back."  
This caused them all to collapse into giggles once more, but they struggled to their feet and when they entered the area where the press was located Roux' questioning gaze between them made Eleanor feel slightly self-conscious - they were both soaking, covered in straw and their clothes untucked. It was only when the 3 boys arrived, looking similar, that Roux's expression flicked to mild amusement....clearly they hadn't been doing what he had thought.....not with 3 small children watching!


	14. Christmas gifts

The Autumn landscape started to fade in colour as the trees became bare. The animals enjoyed less time grazing outside, meaning there was more work needed maintaining their stable and barns.  
The calf had gone to be slaughtered; Athos having struck a deal with the slaughterman to swap half of the carcass for half a pig, (although a haunch from the calf also went by way of payment for his services). This meant that meat was plentiful and Eleanor had displayed significant practicality in deciding which items could be salted, which cured and hung and had also insisted on the blood being saved to turn into delicious black puddings (a speciality from her homeland Athos discovered) which served as many tasty meals for them and were also swapped for a number of additional luxuries; including leather strapping to vastly improve the bed frames which both Athos and Eleanor slept on. Athos worked on this task in the evenings, creating higher wooden frames for the new, tight strapping. This also meant that they had spare bed frames now, one of which would surely be useful when Sylvie was older, and would in the meantime allow Armand the luxury of his own small bed to himself.  
The pumpkin and squashes were being harvested, together with leeks, carrots and onions, and each night they feasted on slowly cooked, tender stews which felt incredibly warming and comforting.  
Eleanor spent more time inside the house and used the colder, shorter days to improve their surroundings - she added small pieces of stitched work to the collars and hemlines of their clothing; she darned and patched the upholstered back of a threadbare chair, meaning that they now both had a comfortable seat with arms to rest upon by the embers. She made drapes for the windows which greatly reduced draughts and finished rag rugs for each room.  
The kitchen cupboards were now well stocked - Athos found her ability to create products from items he would have tossed to the animals ingenious and strangely alluring. She's made a sweet and spicy chutney using all of the unripened tomatoes and courgettes; there were crockery pots filled with salted duck legs, covered in fat and cooked slowly which no longer required keeping cool and would last well into the winter months and there were all manner of meats and sausages rubbed with herbs hanging in the through flowing draught of the larder.  
He thanked his good fortune on a daily basis for her arrival in his life.  
Eleanor had also taken it upon herself to start teaching Armand more lessons; he was reading and writing short sentences; practising numbers and calculations and learning English as well as French.  
All of his children were blossoming under her tender care and calmness and the celebrations which accompanied the birth of the Lord were happy ones, despite them being the first celebrated without their mother's love.  
Eleanor and Athos made and bought small gifts for the children and delighted (each in their own rooms) in hearing their squeals upon discovering them when they awoke.   
After preparing and eating a sumptuous meal together the 3 boys excitedly approached Eleanor with 3 small offerings:  
"These are for you," Armand announced before hugging her neck and placing a kiss on her cheek, followed by Isaac and Jean who did similarly, Isaac clambering up onto her lap as she glanced at Athos' face; he was looking a little sheepish and embarrassed, but there was a smile of warmth behind his eyes.  
Eleanor carefully unwrapped a coin purse, clumsily but effectively stitched together (she recognised it as a piece of the calf hide) and from the beaming smile and redness to Armand's cheeks guessed that he was responsible. the second gift was a small piece of wood, decorated with the word Eleanor carefully written in childlike lettering, in muted colours with tiny dots creating a border. It was clearly made using the children's finger prints dipped into paint and Eleanor had to swallow the lump in her throat at the charm and beautiful sentiment behind it.  
The final gift was within a small, velvet cloth. When Eleanor unwrapped the deep, blue cloth she found a pair of delicately carved wooden hair combs, each was painted, using the same palette of muted shades on the name plaque, but using a much finer and detailed hand, to depict bluebells, lily-of-the-valley and a swirling filigree of green foliage. Eleanor's eyes rose to meet those of Athos, his cheeks blushing, but his eyes not wavering from hers.  
"I don't deserve these........these beautiful things..." Eleanor whispered, flicking a tear from the corner of her eye.  
"Nonsense," Athos replied, he cleared his throat and rose to refill his own cup with wine, and offered the same to Eleanor with a smile.  
She opened her arms to each of the boys, placing a kiss on each of their soft cheeks, uttering "Thank you," then walked towards Athos, standing to replace the wine jug.  
She noticed his breath was shallower and more ragged from his slightly parted lips, she touched his sleeve to make him tilt his face towards her,  
"Thank you....all of you," she said before reaching her warm lips up to Athos' rugged cheek and pressing them to the surprisingly soft beard and skin they met.  
The brief, chaste action caused Athos to lower his eyelids and inhale her scent. The tingle and warmth on his skin lasted far longer than the momentary graze of her lips warranted.  
"We should prepare for church," Eleanor said briskly, wondering whether perhaps she had over stepped the carefully drawn lines of their cohabiting relationship. She gathered her precious gifts and took them upstairs, returning a few moments later with her cloak fastened around her and the pair of combs scooped into her auburn curls.

In the full church pews they gave thanks to a God whom they all had a very different relationship with. Athos' being the most precarious. On the one hand he had lost 2 women whom he had loved....and still did. Yet on this particular Christmas Day he could marvel at the fact that God had seen fit to send Eleanor back into his life.

It was indeed a very happy Christmas.


	15. Fever

The New Year brought snow, which created a magical landscape, but also bitter cold temperature. Eleanor wrapped herself in her cloak for most days and the fire was kept burning throughout the day and left to smoulder at night time.  
The animals were given additional straw as bedding, and the goat which had been mated the earliest predictably lost her 2 kids to the bitter cold. Her milk yield however was considerably increased and Eleanor was able to start making more soap as well as cheese. Once the other 2 goats birthed in a month or so hopefully they would be able to make enough to start selling it in earnest; and hopefully there would be some female kids to rear as additional milk producers for the future.  
Athos wrapped himself in a think, dark blue cloak which had an almost military air to it - she noticed that he also used it as an additional bed covering for himself, so that he could place his own blanket on the beds of the children.

The cold temperatures continued throughout February, and Athos came down with a heavy cold following a spell out in the stables delivering the second goats - this time 2 were delivered and one survived the colder spell, fortunately a female too. Eleanor had suspected he would become ill as the sweat of his exertion trying to free the second kid at delivery had frozen on his skin. She'd encouraged him to sit directly in front of the fire, but his fevered and clammy face was evident and a few hours later he took himself to his bed.  
Eleanor was roused during the night by Armand at her bedside, tugging at her covers and shivering. He wordlessly dragged her to his father's room, Eleanor entered apprehensively and caught her breath - Athos was drenched with sweat, panting, head back on his soaked pillow. He had thrust all covers from the top of his body and he was writhing in an almost delirious state, making odd gurgling noises and clenching the covers in his fists.  
Eleanor told Armand to sit beside him whilst she heated water, found clean cloths and towels and took them back to Athos. She showed Armand how to wipe his father's brow and the parts of his chest visible through the deeply open neck of his night shift. She then returned to the kitchen where she took lemons she had stored in a jar and cut them roughly, adding them to the pot of boiling water. She also added sage leaves and mustard seeds and boiled the lot for several minutes. She ladled some of the liquid into a cup, adding a small trickle of honey from their precious supply (she had already asked Athos for a hive of their own and he was preparing one ready for the spring) and added a slug of their apple brandy - she'd persuaded him to turn some of the cider into a distilled brandy rather than leave it all as rough cider, and it had proven to be a tasty and powerful liquor.  
She gathered up a pot of duck fat and ground some dried lavender flowers in the pestle and mortar and took the lot upstairs.  
Armand was looking anxious, his father's face was clammy and his eyes ringed with heavy, dark skin. He had stopped thrashing around, but was making small panting and grunting noises with each touch of the damp cloth. Eleanor took over and pulled him with difficulty to sit up, his huge form pressing against her and weighing significantly more than she had imagined it would. She instructed the little boy to strip off his father's shirt, and between them they man handled him so that he was free of the drenched garment. Still draped across her, she showed Armand how to wipe his back down using the cloth, and then she allowed him to drop back - ideally she would have liked to change his bedding, but she'd think of a way of doing that in time. She then wiped the rest of his face and torso down with a mixture of the warm water and lavender flowers. It felt strangely unerotic to drag her hand across his chest and hard nipples when he was in this state and despite the fact that at any other time she would have been alarmingly aroused by his naked flesh, she maintained a dignified professionalism to her manner.....when she considered the events afterwards she was unsure how she had managed it!  
Satisfied that he was less delirious now she instructed Armand to fetch clean bed covers from her own room and she managed to roll him across the mattress and remove the soaked linens, replacing them with fresh, clean ones. She tried not to notice his muscular thighs concealed within his linen underbreeches, or his bare feet, which to her mind looked strong and powerful, and significantly different to her own slim and smooth ones on his floor.  
Eleanor located one of his clean shirts which would suffice for sleeping in for now. Before covering his body with it she daubed his chest with the duck fat, which she had mixed with a little of the ground lavender flowers to improve the aroma. Her soft, smooth hand was dwarfed by the expanse of his chest, but she concentrated on covering his flesh and avoided thoughts of a any other nature, including the image of her fingers gliding across his torso aided by the greasy substance.  
She hastily covered him with the shirt and propped him up slightly with her arm whilst she attempted to get some of the liquid into him.  
Initially he almost fought against her, batting away the cup with a swipe of his arm, but once she'd managed to get a small amount passed his lips he seemed to recognise the need for subservience and meekly allowed her to pour the cup of hot liquid into his mouth in small, manageable sips.  
His eyes relaxed a little and his body became even heavier to hold, so she allowed him to fall back to the bed and covered him with a fresh linen sheet before adding blankets and tucking them securely around him - he may have wanted to throw them off, but she knew he needed warmth for his body to sweat out the fever.  
Moving to the end of the bed she carefully untucked his feet and felt him tense as she applied a thick layer of the grease to each one before covering them again with the bed coverings.  
She encouraged Armand over to her and told him that his father would hopefully sleep now, and that they would do the same again several times more to help him to get well.  
"He isn't going to die like Maman is he?" Armand asked in barely a whisper, his eyes peering up at her like dark pools of jet.  
"No my love, he has a fever and a cold, but he is strong.....he'll get well.....but we need to help him, and right now you need to go to sleep so that you can be strong and help me tomorrow - we must do your father's jobs until he is well," she explained, honestly. She was slightly anxious about Athos' health at this point in time, but she was convinced that he'd be well again.

Eleanor saw Armand safely into bed and hovered until she saw him turn and settle. She then went to check on the patient, who was calmer in his fresh bed and sleeping deeply on his back. She went down to wash her hands and sorted the kitchen. She removed the pot from the stove and covered it; the potency of the mixture would be improved by steeping the lemons overnight, so she transferred it to the larder. She'd prepare a mustard bath for him in the morning......getting him to take it would be a whole different issue......but she'd deal with that problem and how to solve it tomorrow.

She went back to her own bed and slept fitfully, her dreams interrupted by visions of applying grease to Athos...... until the cockerel's crow woke her.

She wrapped her cloak around herself and went to check on Athos. He was sleeping deeply, he'd pulled the covers up around himself and had curled onto his side, his face looking more restful than fevered now. She sighed a little in relief and went downstairs to prepare a hot cup of steeped lemon for him to soothe his throat. She put their daily, rib sticking porridge on to cook as she took the hot drink up to the room. She opened the shutter on his window, letting out the 'ill' air and flooding in wintery sunlight and freshness. The combination of the light and cool air roused Athos who sat up and blinked, momentarily wondering why Eleanor was in his room.  
He ran his hand through his dishevelled hair and noticed the greasiness on his chest, and presumably his feet judging by the movement beneath the covers and his expression.   
"Armand woke me last night; you have a fever, he was scared that you were going to die," Eleanor explained, moving towards him and placing her cool palm to his hot forehead. It was still clammy, but far less concerning than he previous night. She nodded and gave him the cup of hot lemony mixture to drink.  
He took the cup and sniffed it, his face grimacing, but Eleanor's expression made him think that she wouldn't sway, so he drank several gulps down - despite the odour it was actually not unpleasant and it soothed his dry throat and the pain between his temples.  
"When you've drunk that I'll bring you water for washing," she busied herself collecting up the discarded clothing and bedding from last night.   
After she had left he managed to haul himself out of bed to the piss pot in the corner. he noticed that his clothing felt soaked with sweat and contemplated the image he must have portrayed to Eleanor in the middle of the night - he had no recollection of being disturbed, but she'd picked up his nightshirt from the floor and his bedding was different.....had she undressed him? Had he undressed himself and she'd found him.......naked?!?  
Armand appeared at the door with a jug of water and a smile on his face,  
"Do you feel better Papa?" he asked, "You were so poorly......I helped Eleanor .....I wiped you with a cloth and it stopped you wriggling around."  
Athos smiled and ruffled his son's curls, "I feel much better this morning," although his voice was still thick and hoarse.

It took him several days to fully recover, during which time he became an increasingly difficult patient, but recover fully he did and Eleanor mourned the loss of her 'bedroom privileges'....although what she didn't know was that Athos, rather than mourning the loss, was instead celebrating the realisation that Eleanor obviously cared for him.....and he rather liked being cared for by her.


	16. You're making fun of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is passing and Spring is all but over.   
> Athos goes fishing and has an impromptu shower, but a misunderstanding leaves Eleanor feeling mocked and foolish.

March and April brought milder weather, but plenty of rain.   
Athos worked diligently most days planting new crops, the goats birthed well and resulted in a total of 5 new kids, 3 of which were females and 2 males which would be fattened for slaughter eventually; one had been bartered as payment for the blacksmith for the coming year, meaning that Adila and Tilly could be shod.  
Eleanor had hatched a clutch of both ducks and chicks, which would again be meals and egg providers in time.

The land surrounding the farm had blossomed to life with bluebells and snowdrops scattered around the trees and pathways. Eleanor frequently picked bunches to display in small vases in the house, and when the Lily-of-the-Valley appeared everyone knew it was May.  
The days became longer, the weather increasingly warm and the fields and stables became lush and well stocked.

Eleanor and Athos' relationship had become one of warm companionship. Athos could not stop his attraction to her, but the prospect of crossing the carefully drawn line which existed between them was too risky to him. Unbeknown to him Eleanor felt the same. She caught her breath most days upon seeing him for the first time, gazed at him in the evening candlelight and marvelled at the strength, natural grace and masculinity he displayed moving about his daily business.  
However, she couldn't ignore his frequent visits to Sylvie's graveside which would leave him morose and quiet, often followed by a visit to the stables to thrash out his emotions with his rapier and straw sack.  
Athos in his turn noticed that Eleanor's mood was often changed following his visits to Sylvie. He often sat beside her and thought about his feelings, as if trying to reconcile them with his past love for her. mental anguish and turmoil due to his emotions was not new to him, and he had spent much of his time with Sylvie trying to manage and compartmentalise his feelings towards Milady, whom he now knew he would always love; but had resigned himself to recognising that he was no longer in love with her.  
But was he still in love with Sylvie? Was in in love with Eleanor; or did he feel a brotherly love towards her?  
Most days he could convince himself of the latter, but in the evening candlelight and glow from the fire, when she was rocking his growing daughter on her knee; or when she bent over and he caught a glimpse of her soft,ample bosom there was no denying that he body didn't always see her in a brotherly way.

One morning, Athos went out fishing with the boys.   
The small river provided them with several fat trout after a few hours of calming 'work'. Athos felt slightly guilty about Eleanor remaining at the farm - she had said she would be washing bedding most of the day! So, he decided he could at least minimise the mess and work involved in preparing the fish and set about gutting and cleaning them beside the stream. He sent the boys off home and told them to let Eleanor know not to prepare any food for the evening as they had enough fish for them all.  
By this stage his clothes and forearms were stained with blood and guts from the fish and he decided to bathe lower down the river rather than return to the farm stinking and blood stained. If he walked a short way downstream he knew there was a natural waterfall, which was ideal for standing beneath.

Eleanor was hanging up linen sheets to dry when the boys returned.   
"We have fish for later, Papa has got it, but he's stayed at the stream.....he's covered in blood," Jean recounted.  
Eleanor froze, "Blood? Why is he covered in blood?" she asked.  
"He didn't want to make more work for you," Armand continued, "So he's stayed at the stream to try and get rid of it.....there was quite a lot!"  
Eleanor's face blanched, Athos was covered in blood and didn't want to be a burden on her.......what if he bled to unconsciousness? Or even death? She jumped to the conclusion that he's injured himself without further questioning the boys and instead removed her apron, shouted a hasty, "Look after your sister!" before she sprinted in the direction of the river.  
She followed the stream for quite a distance, looking for clues and saw a large pool of blood in one spot beside the edge. There appeared to be splatters trailing further downstream and as she hurried her pace she heard a scream in Athos' familiar baritone voice.  
"Athos, I'm coming," she shouted, rushing towards the sound, coming to an abrupt halt as she slithered down a steep slope.  
The sight meeting her would have made her catch her breath without the shock of falling, but the 2 combined rendered her temporarily speechless.  
Athos was stood beneath the steadily falling water, his back towards her, knee deep in the river below. His head was tipped back and his hands ran backwards through his hair as the water drenched him. He allowed it to fill his mouth before spurting the water out again.  
As Eleanor's eyes were adjusting to the sight of Athos's body, clearly visible through the transparent shirt and braies, and as her breathing was beginning to become slightly more controlled, he swiftly lifted the shirt from his torso and tossed it towards the rocks, turning around to face her, his head still tipped backwards and unaware of her presence. He rubbed his hands across his chest and arms and continued to slough the water back through his hair with the odd shiver.  
Eleanor suddenly felt a little light headed; a combination of shock, running in the warm sun in her corsets and the formidable sight of Athos' semi naked, wet body in front of her.  
She lost her balance a little and stumbled forwards, losing her footing on the slippery river bank, before grabbing a tree branch to prevent herself from falling; but her movement finally caught the eye of Athos who froze, hands on his head, mid torrent of water.  
"You're out of breath?" he shouted above the sound of the water. and began to make his way to the edge.  
Eleanor panted, not sure whether to be angry or not that he clearly wasn't hurt, "....they said blood.....I saw the blood.....and I followed the blood...."  
A smirk formed on Athos' lips as he indicated the gutted fish, "I cleaned out the fish......did you think?......." and his smirk became a quizzical laugh.  
Eleanor could feel a blush forming across her cheeks and chest, and tears sprang to the corner of her eyes, he was mocking her concern and she felt foolish.  
She hastily turned her head away, "You're making fun of me......." her voice broke and she ran, she didn't know where she was going she just had to get away from him. She vaguely heard him call after her, but she didn't stop. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. She'd shown her concern for him and he found it amusing....he found her laughable.   
She finally collapsed, exhausted and sobbing next to a stone wall in the shade of a large tree.   
She cared for him, so much, that she'd run to him at the thought of him being injured; and he'd found it amusing.   
She cried until she had no further tears, but her body heaved in wracking sobs far longer.

Athos struggled to reach dry land, and by the time he did Eleanor was long gone. He called after her several times, "Eleanor.......I'm sorry.......Eleanor.......stop, please.......I'm sorry!" his voice filtered away to nothing and he toyed with the idea of running after her. Instead he dropped to the rocks and ran through the brief interaction again.  
She'd clearly thought he was injured and had run to his aide.....and how had he responded? He'd laughed at her concern! He'd openly laughed in her face.....no wonder she'd run away.   
He visualised the hurt look in her tear filled eyes before she'd bolted.......his chest physically caused him pain and he flexed his hand into a fist as the recognition of his feelings towards her formed clearly in his eyes.  
But he'd humiliated her, and he had no idea how to rectify matters.  
He picked up the fish and his sodden shirt, put on his breeches over his soaked braies and made his way back to his home, his body language that of a broken man.

He hadn't expected Eleanor to be there, but he was unsure what to do next. Armand was waiting for him; Jean and Isaac were running around with the now toddling Sylvie. He noticed his father's glum expression.  
"Where's Eleanor Papa?" he asked.  
"I think I made her sad, she wants to be on her own," Athos replied solemnly.  
"If you made her sad you should say sorry," Armand answered with the honesty only children can muster.  
"I will......if she'll let me," Athos added, kicking at the dust as he noticed how marked his shirt was in his hand.....and she'd probably just get on and clean that for him too he thought, feeling about as low as it was possible for a man to feel.

Somehow it didn't seem right to prepare and cook the fish on the stove without her, so instead he instructed the boys in building a campfire and they grilled the fishes across the flames. They were delicious, although Athos had little appetite.

The sun began to go down....and she still wasn't home.


	17. A Message for Athos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following their misunderstanding a message arrives for Athos to change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so I've loosely based the battle/war which is to come on the Battle of Lens - but I've taken a bit of poetic license with history because a) I didn't want to wait months more in my story, b) I don't really like writing fights and c) I can!

Athos was uneasy now.....it was almost dark and Eleanor was still somewhere out in the land around the farm, and it was his fault.   
Armand didn't want to go to sleep without her, and Athos had no words of comfort for his son.  
He paced.

Eleanor lay on the ground for hours, unable to shift the image of Athos' mocking laugh from her eyes and ears. How could she face him again? How could she go back to caring for him and his children when he obviously felt so little for her?  
It was dark and getting cold.  
She thought about the children; they'd said he was getting rid of the blood, and she'd assumed he was hurt. Would Athos be angry at them? Would they blame themselves for her disappearance?  
The thought of Armand, Jean and Isaac feeling that it was their fault that she'd gone was too much for her to bear.  
She dragged her aching and stiff body from the ground and began to make her way towards the light and smoke which she knew must be the location of the farm building.

His breathe caught in a hitch in his chest as he saw her slumped and exhausted outline approaching. He wanted to run to her, to engulf her in his arms and kiss her tear stained eyes. He wanted to fall to his knees before her, clasping her hands in his own and begging for her to forgive him.  
But she walked past him, ignoring his pleading eyes and whispered, "Eleanor, I'm.........."and made instead for Armand who was standing in the doorway.  
"Are you angry with me Eleanor?" he asked meekly.  
She shook her head sadly at him, "No Armand, I could never be angry with you.....I was just wrong about something."  
"Are you alright now?" he asked, clasping her hand in his own.  
Eleanor shook her head again and brushed the dark curls from his face with her hands, "No.....but I shall be well again Armand."  
And she went upstairs to her room.  
Athos paused outside her door and pressed his forehead and palm against the closed door. "Forgive me?" he whispered.

She slept badly, but late. Athos did not want to wake her and encouraged the children to be quiet so that she could sleep.  
When she did rouse it was to the sound of hooves outside her window.  
When she looked she saw an unfamiliar horse and rider handing over a sealed note to Athos before riding off swiftly.  
She watched as Athos unfastened the letter and read the contents. She saw him crumple the note in his fist and drop his head before heading off to the stables.  
Eleanor dressed quickly, she noticed that her face and eyes in particular were still puffy and red, but her curiosity about the note overwhelmed her desire to remain distant from Athos.

She saw him moving purposefully around, collecting and checking tack, his saddle and his weapons.  
He barely glanced up when he saw her approach; he still felt bad about the previous day, but the note had superseded those emotions and his anguish.  
Eleanor saw the note discarded on the wooden bench near to the door. He saw her notice it,  
"Read it," he said, tersely.   
Eleanor slowly picked it up, watching his body language to gauge any kind of clue. The writing was ornate and brief.  
'My Dearest Comrade in Arms, I need your skills now as never before. Help me serve Conde at Lens. This battle is bigger than all of us as individuals....but, All For One? Your fellow Musketeer, Porthos.'  
She let the note fall from her grasp and sat heavily on the bench.  
Athos briefly halted his business and almost self consciously asked, "May I ask you.........Do I assume too much that you will remain here?.......with my children?" and at the final statement his eyes met hers pleadingly.  
She held his gaze for a fraction of a heartbeat and nodded before leaving the stables.

So, he was going to war. He had spoken to her about his life as a musketeer over the past few months, she learned through his modest honesty that he was widely regarded, highly skilled and had risen to the rank of Captain of the garrison in Paris. She also knew of Porthos, who had succeeded him in that role upon his departure with a pregnant Sylvie.  
She therefore knew that if Porthos needed his help enough to ask....then he would go.

The children noticed their father's unusual behaviour, and the strain between him and Eleanor with their dark, eyes.

Several hours later Athos emerged from the stables and went to his room, he brought down a leather saddle bag which looked well packed. He glanced around the kitchen.  
"I'll pack some suitable things......if you'd like," Eleanor ventured, uncertain how her offer would be received.  
In reply he left the saddle bag on the kitchen table, which she accepted as a cue to fill it. She carefully packed long lasting and tasty items from their larder and tucked in one of her own lavender soaps together with one of Sylvie's dresses - the simple cream coloured one with colourful. stitched smoking which he often fondled admiringly when she wore it.  
As she was busily occupied he gathered Armand, Jean and Isaac and explained that he was going away, to help a friend who needed him. He told them that Eleanor would stay and look after them until he returned, and that he needed them to be brave and do whatever she asked them to do whilst he was gone.   
They had accepted his words without question; Armand knew that his father had been a musketeer which meant he was brave and honourable.   
"I shall help her Papa.....we'll do what she says and we'll never make her run away," he added.  
Athos looked around for Eleanor and noticed that she was no longer in the kitchen. He couldn't leave her like this.

He found her in the stable, she was stroking Adila's muzzle and talking softly to her, her elegant fingers tracing their way along her neck and ears.  
She jumped a little at Athos' touch on her sleeve. He clearly wanted her to turn towards him, but she remained facing the dark mare instead.  
"Yesterday......I was........" he swallowed and sighed, "I was wrong to mock you Eleanor......please say you forgive me?"  
Eleanor remained focussed on Adila, "There's nothing to forgive," she said, with more surety than she felt, and she turned to face him, a smile plastered on her face, "I was mistaken about something, I overreacted, that's all.......it won't happen again, I won't abandon the children," the final comment brought a more sincere look to her face fleetingly before she tried to pass Athos and return to the house.  
He caught her arm as she passed him and before she knew it his arms were around her. He engulfed her in the way he'd wanted to the previous day; the only way he knew to try to show his sorrow.   
She allowed herself to fall against his broad, strong chest, to nestle her face into the soft hair above the neckline of his shirt and inhale his masculine scent, trying to imprint it on her senses.  
"Eleanor, I'm so sorry.....I never wanted to hurt you, " he muttered into her hair, allowing his lips to linger below her ear for longer than was probably appropriate.  
Eleanor's hands slid around his back, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling his body to hers. He was leaving for a war; she knew better than to assume he'd return and the knowledge made her more reckless than usual.  
Athos was almost delirious with how she felt pressed against him, and when her hands started to pull him into her he almost lost control of himself.   
He dragged her away from him, so that he could trace the hair away from her cheek with his rough palm and looked at her with love and longing.  
"Promise you'll come back to m.........to them," she stammered, almost lost in his eyes for a moment before recovering herself.   
He nodded and pressed his forehead to hers, " I have every reason to come back alive....at least now I do."  
He pressed his lips to the cool, soft skin of her forehead, her hands pressing against his chest.   
She could so easily have lifted her mouth to meet his lips, and he could easily have dipped his mouth to find her lips; but they didn't, instead they stood, wordlessly eloquent, sharing the same oxygen.  
"I'll see you in the morning before I leave," he lied.

He put his children to bed and ate a hearty meal prepared by Eleanor before he retired to his room.  
Eleanor took her bible and knelt by her bed before she got into bed. She wasn't sure what she prayed for.....she could only think of Athos, she loved him, and he was leaving, possibly never to return.  
She tossed and turned in her bed for several hours, she must have slept a little, but she awoke with an aching in her chest and a moistness to her slit. She wasn't going to let him leave without showing him how she felt.  
It was dawn. She rose from her bed and wrapped her shawl over her nightgown, padding barefoot through her door and across the small landing. She soundlessly opened his door.  
His bed was empty, neatly made with his nightshirt left folded on his pillow.  
She lay on his bed, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, resting her head on the pillow which smelled so like him.  
She had found him, and he had found her; just in time to part.


	18. Time flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos is off at war and meets his old Musketeer friends again (well, almost all of them) and has a few naughty fantasies about Eleanor.  
> Eleanor holds down the fort at home.

Eleanor had little time to wallow in her own emotional turmoil as life on the farm with 4 small children did not pause for such luxury.  
Athos on the other hand spent much of the journey and frequent rests contemplating his return to a life of soldiering. He's told his fellow musketeers that he would only be taking a break, but as time had passed his role as father, and latterly lone parent had forced his hand. The existence of Eleanor in his life had now given him a choice, and the call had come at a fortuitous time. What he was unsure about was whether he had decided to join his comrades because he was running to their aide, or because he was running away from his developing emotions towards Eleanor.  
The journey across the country and north gave him ample opportunity to consider, but he couldn't settle to an opinion.  
Once he met his old friend Porthos thoughts of Eleanor vanished as he was once again engrossed in the rigid routine of war, although a fair amount of back slapping and discussion about the past 6 years also took place.  
The arrival of Athos near to Lens was followed a couple of days later by his fellow musketeer, d'Artagnan who had alongside him his wife Constance and 12 of their trained men. She had refused him permission to go unless he allowed her to be alongside him - she knew the dangers, but her skills over the years with injuries and general fighting skills made her an asset rather than a hindrance and Porthos welcomed them all. Aramis had more important concerns in Paris as they all understood, but d'Artagnan relayed his message that he was with them in fighting spirit and would try to join them in time.  
Conde clearly held Porthos in high regard, but it was equally clear that this battle was going to be brutal and decisive, so the skills and clear heads of the likes of Athos and d'Artagnan would be of significance.  
In time this would prove to be correct.

Harvest time came, Eleanor had resigned herself to the fact that much of the crops would rot in the field without the help of Athos to gather the wheat, and she was moved to tears when almost the entire village turned out to support her ensuring that not a stalk was wasted.   
"Athos was once our liege lord, and having gifted us this land we cannot abandon him now," explained Monsieur Martin.

December brought a letter from Athos. Eleanor hugged the sealed message to her chest, praying that it did not bring bad news, but his fluid script met her gaze and assured her that he was well, thinking of them all and hoping to return soon.  
The news made Armand, Jean and Isaac smile, although she also heard sobs from the eldest when he was alone on his bed later that day. She allowed him his privacy to miss his father. He was old enough to have endured the grief over losing his mother, so she knew he was consumed with fear about the possibility of also losing his dearest Papa.  
Eleanor had managed to start a small business selling her soap and cheeses around the village as well as bartering the products for other goods and services. Combined with meat from the reared goats and now a plentiful harvest; plus the reduced wine costs without Athos' thirst meant that they were able to have a relatively 'rich' festive period.  
There were gifts for them all, new clothes, huge meals and delicious treats; although each would have traded these things to have Athos back with them.  
Eleanor missed him. She missed his presence, his humour, his smile, his warmth and his strength. She missed someone to talk to who could stimulate her mind, and she felt lonely.   
This was made more vivid in her mind when Roux had arrived to press the apples again and had informed her that he was betrothed to a young lady from a neighbouring settlement. His eyes glimmered when he spoke of her; of her youth and beauty. Eleanor wallowed a little in the knowledge that her own youth and beauty was waning, and that there was nobody who had spoken of her in such eloquent terms of endearment.....maybe there never would be now. She had never required such trivial, feminine ridiculousness, but without the possibility of it occurring she now felt a loss.  
Eleanor had always felt apart from women in  many ways. She had never begun her courses meaning that she understood herself to be barren; something which her father had encouraged her never to speak of - a female of noble birth was only of value if they could breed! She hadn't mentioned it to Athos - why would they discuss such things?  
She loved children and was always at ease with them, even though they reminded her of her own short comings, and having this 'ready made' family of 4 beautiful children suited her well; although it didn't remove those desperate yearnings of her own.   
And so it was that Eleanor welcomed the new year alone, the children sleeping deeply....each of them dreaming of their father.....including Eleanor.

Athos spent the New Year playing cards, indulging in drinking games (which he was hopelessly out of practise with!) and generally making merry with his friends. The fighting at Lens had been halted, Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan had survived the initial skirmishes with little more than a scratch or 7 and the camp had become a hive of inactivity and boredom.  
At night Athos' thoughts turned to home, to his children....and invariably to Eleanor.  
The familiar creaking of bed frames and giggles from d'Artagnan and Constance in the adjoining room didn't help matters; listening to the matrimonial bliss of his friends did nothing to ease the ache and stiffness in his own loins, although it frequently encouraged him to take matters into his own hand with a cloth close by to remove the resulting salty stickiness. In the past his fantasies had tended to merge between images of Milady, Sylvie and occasionally Ninon; but at Lens it was only Eleanor who invaded his most vivid thoughts.......and some were vivid indeed!  
His most repetitive involved her lying on his bed, there in the barracks, naked. If he closed his eyes and inhaled the bar of lavender soap she'd secreted in his saddle bag he could feel her there. In his mind he always slid down her undulating body to lap at her mound relentlessly until she grabbed his hair and ground into his face, before she allowed him to enter her fully, riding his length until he shuddered to spend himself deep within her. His imagination was detailed and effective; but he still felt unsatisfied.

It was a cold winter for them all.


	19. In battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be a short chapter - I don't like writing about fighting, but I need to for the story!  
> Some description of character injury (but not lethal or too graphic - although I do talk about cauterising a wound!) - by the way it isn't necessarily an accurate description, but I think/hope I get the point across.

The ground thawed and a plan had finally been devised for battle.  
Aramis had finally joined them all, Athos was pleased to see his oldest musketeer friend. They had been through a lot together and understood one another's moods better than anyone else. Their re-established relationship however now had another common feature - that they were both now fathers, and therefore now had someone else to live for.  
Never before in battle had Athos been forced to consider this - he'd always been able to switch off his brain to anything other than killing or be killed. He'd been satisfied to die, knowing that he left no one behind who would mourn him, miss him and suffer from his loss.  
This was now not the case, and he found himself confiding in Aramis who could empathise, but had the added consideration of knowing that he could never admit to his child who he was!  
For the first time in Athos' memory he was frightened; not of fighting - he knew he was skilled - no, he was frightened of dying, and he had something to live for.....and he'd realised it was not just his children.....he wanted to see Eleanor again; and he told himself that if he did he would tell her how much she meant to him.

The morning of the battle dawned, bringing rain and a feeling of impending doom. Constance tried to busy herself with the cadets, terrified for them, but also at the thought of losing her husband, and when they were suited in their various armours, carrying their weaponry she could hardly bear to watch him mount his horse, knowing that he could be riding away from her for the final time.  
However, she was a musketeer's wife, so she kissed him; hard and hungrily; a kiss to send him into battle, a kiss to last into eternity if today was his day to die.

They rode out mid morning, and by evening they rode back.....all of them, although both Athos and D'Artagnan carried injuries. D'Artagnan had taken a shot to his thigh. Once back at the camp Aramis was able to remove the ball of lead and bandage the wound - it was painful, but the shot was clean and it would heal.  
Athos on the other hand had taken a savagely deep blade to his shoulder - the same shoulder which he'd injured previously when protecting Sylvie from Grimaud in Paris. He screamed like an injured bear when his clothing was peeled from his skin and Aramis winced at the injury. He could stitch it, but the wound was deep and the skin either side was already scarred from the previous injury.  
Athos was usually placated with alcohol alone in order to tend to his wounds - he wasn't a difficult patient like Porthos who required being knocked unconscious! - and on this occasion Aramis waited until his friend had downed a full bottle and a half of wine before he began cleaning the skin around the wound. He quickly realised that the blood was continuing to flow from it though and that stitching alone would be insufficient.  
Porthos and Constance quickly realised what was needed and caught each others' glances at Aramis, who nodded.  
"Athos my friend, we're going to have to stop the blood.....Porthos is going to help you feel less pain...." Aramis' voice drifted out but Athos' tolerance for alcohol meant that he was still alert enough to hear Aramis and recognise the tone.....and also understand what was about to be inflicted on him.  
"NOOOOOOO!" he howled, "Just get me something to bite on!" he demanded, grasping Porthos by the neck.  
Aramis passed his friend a sturdy wooden spindle while Constance tried to dry the wound as best she could. She knew that the powder needed to remain as dry as possible for it to burn rapidly and therefore cause as little pain as possible.  
Porthos brought a powder bottle through to the room, Athos downed the rest of the second bottle of wine in two mammoth gulps, "Get on with it," he growled.  
"Lie down," Aramis instructed him, and Athos fell forwards onto the table, his neck hanging over the edge, the wooden spindle grasped between his bared teeth.  
Porthos positioned his bulk across Athos' hips in order to keep his body still and Constance leant her weight on his left shoulder. Aramis gave the would a final clean, drying as much of the blood as possible, sprinkling the powder quickly over the length of the cut, ensuring he got the black dust deeply into the cut - he knew from experience that it would need a second burn in order to completely seal the wound, but hopefully the pain from the first flash would knock Athos unconscious.  
"Ready?" he asked, Athos strained against his restrainers, clearly trying to signal his impatience.  
Aramis held the lit spill to the cut, a smell of burning flesh hung briefly in the air as Athos gritted down onto the spindle; there was a brief flash as the powder ignited and Athos screamed into the wood, his teeth cutting marks into it, his eyes bulging in their sockets.  
Aramis was shocked that his friend was still conscious, Athos was panting and gurgling from deep within his chest, and his eyes beseeched Aramis to finish the job, quickly.  
"Once more," Aramis murmured, and waited for Porthos and Constance to resume their positions. He sprinkled more of the powder this time, the wound was dry now and he wanted to ensure that this time the wound was completely sealed to prevent any infection and to improve healing time, although he knew his fellow musketeer would carry a nasty scar for the rest of his life.  
The second flash was almost instant and resulted in Athos screaming in anguish, dropping the wooden bar from his mouth and spasming his body against the table and the weight of Porthos; Constance was thrown from him completely.  
"It's done, it's done," shouted Aramis above the noise, struggling to catch Athos' eyes with his own, but when he did and looked deeply into them, willing his friend to understand that the worst was over, Athos finally began to calm, his teeth gritted and his lip bitten at some point.  
A short time later Athos was sleeping fitfully. They lashed him face down to the frame to prevent him rolling onto the wound and causing further pain during the night and tried to sleep themselves, Aramis and Porthos agreeing to take turns watching over the patient.

Thankfully the battle that day had resulted in victory.....they'd survived, just about.


	20. No News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of the battle victory filters through to the village, but there is no news about Athos.

Eleanor was tying the reins of the cart to the post in the village square; Tilly had taken to pulling the cart quite well, so long as it wasn't a heavy load!  
She was now a trusted and familiar member of the wider community; her soap and cheese made her arrival popular as several people now came into the village purely to make purchases from her.  
The boys were now well used to the procedure and each carried one of the large, handled baskets over to Madame Drieux. They replenished the empty baskets she handed them with a smile and took the small pouch of coins to Eleanor - Madame Drieux took a small cut, but it made things simpler for Eleanor not to have to organise her own market stall each week, plus many sales were made during the week when Eleanor simply had to remain at the farm.  
Jean took the churn of goat's milk to Monsieur Turenne as always; he had initially been negative about a rival cheese being available; but when Eleanor showed him that hers was a soft, fresh type of cabecou rather than the hard, matured style he made he lamented. She maintained the weekly churn of milk as an additional 'sweetener', and now had managed to bargain sales of her own next to his. Monsieur Turenne permitted her to sell her small number of soft cheeses on Saturdays; they were always a sell out, and again he took a small cut from each, but she also noticed that he purchased several himself every few weeks....high praise for her efforts indeed!  
Eleanor went about making her own weekly purchases of bread, dried beans and pulses, salamis and wine from Gilou at the inn.  
He acknowledged her and came over, kissing her on each cheek now that they were familiar acquaintances.  
"You heard the news?" he asked as he busied himself refilling the earthenware bottle she offered him.  
Eleanor's face was a picture of non understanding, so he continued,  
"The fighting in Lens?.......Victory for Conde and our men!" he smiled.  
Eleanor was happy to discover that the fighting was over; she'd endured so much in England, and from the sparse news she heard told her that if anything things had got worse. The news however did nothing to calm the despair she felt having heard nothing from Athos in several months.   
Gilou sensed her tension, "He'll be back........best musketeer there ever was according to the tales they tell!" he pinched her cheek between his thumb and forefinger as a father might a child, which made Eleanor smile in spite of her concern.  
_____________  
Athos recuperated slowly......he wasn't as young as he'd been when he last took an injury, but he was still fit and healthy - working on the farm had maintained his muscle tone; the air he breathed was cleaner than the Parisian fug. Aramis checked the wound each day and noticed a calming to the redness around the black slash, and thankfully no rank odour permeated from it which meant there was no infection. Initially Athos had refused to move his arm at all, and the wild look of anger behind his eyes meant that not even his oldest friends felt like arguing with him. After a week or so however he did begin to gingerly experiment with movement, he couldn't stretch out his arm or raise his elbows any higher than a couple of inches from his waist - each effort brought searing pain and a feeling like his shoulder may split open at any time, but he could move his hand, make a fist and he knew that meant he had good blood flow, which meant it would heal.  
"We really should consider leaving here," Constance mentioned, a month after the end of the fighting. The camp had all but packed up and left, Porthos as General had offered to remain with a small number of troops to clear the bodies and ensure no looting from their corpses, D'Artagnan's shot wound had healed well too.  
Athos knew that he was the reason they had not all left and gone back to their lives; he hated being a hindrance to them and wanted to get back to his family, but he also knew that he could not ride well enough at present, maybe not for another month or so.  
"I'm in no hurry," Aramis replied, "I'm enjoying your company after all this time; it would be a shame to drift apart again," he added.  
"I have an idea," D'Artagnan offered, "Why don't we all accompany you back home, Athos? That way we could break the journey, take our time and make sure you get home in one piece....old man!" he added with a wry smirk.  
Athos, growled and raised his eyebrows at his impertinence....anyone other than d'Artagnan would have received a sharp slap..........but Athos had always had a soft spot for the young musketeer.  
There was a general nodding in agreement for the idea as they sat around. Porthos said he didn't need to return to the troops immediately; Conde had told him to take a well earned break. Constance had heard enough about Eleanor and Athos' children to be eager to meet them in person, and d'artagnan felt the same way as Aramis; he was enjoying them all being together, their camaraderie and humour had been missing from his life.....he was also as nosy as his wife and wanted to see Athos in a different context to the grime of Paris.  
So it seemed settled.....they would journey together to Athos' home.....but he persuaded them to stay put for a further few weeks to give him time to gain some additional movement in his shoulder.  
__________  
More news came through, the battle at Lens had been brutal, but had brought an end to the 30 years war; there was a possibility of peace in France at last.  
This should have brought huge joy, but the lack of news about Athos had now started to concern more than just Eleanor. He was well liked and greatly respected in the village - after all it had been his own generosity that had gifted the land to each and every one of them when he had forfeited his title.   
Eleanor worried, daily. She tried to keep her worries from the children, but Armand had learned that the war was over and part way through April asked Eleanor the question she had been dreading :  
"Is Papa dead? Did he die in the war?" he asked her as she was milking one of the goats. He spoke so calmly and levelly, as if he'd practised his reaction to her responses.  
Eleanor stopped her work and went to him, she noticed that she had to bend less in order to meet his gaze; he'd grown again over winter.  
She didn't want to lie to him, but she wasn't quite ready to think the worst herself.....not yet.  
"I don't know Armand," she answered simply, "I'm worried. I haven't had word from him.....but nor have I had word from his friends - and I am certain they would send us word if something dreadful had happened."  
Her honest, calm words were satisfactory to Armand, but he noticed Eleanor's eyes were moist and glistening. He tried to think what his father would do if he was there, and he took her face in his small hands, "It will be alright Eleanor," and his dark eyes looked so earnest that she believed him.


	21. The homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos returns to Eleanor, along with his fellow musketeers.  
> Both falter in their expression of feelings towards each other.

The journey which would usually have taken a mere 2 days was eeked out to 7. They spent less time in the saddle each day and therefore covered less ground, and rested lengthily each evening in local inns and stables.  
Each evening meal became an opportunity for reminiscing, drinking and laughing. Each morning they arose with sore heads and aching bodies; but still wanted their time together to last.  
_______________________  
The Lily of the Valley was in flower and decorated each of the market stalls, inn tables and many vases on window ledges. It signalled the 1st day of May. Eleanor had dressed herself and the children prettily to mark the widely celebrated date - her skirt was a new green one with a cream coloured shift, which had some attractive stitching around the cuffs and neckline. The breast section was curved and fastened with a central line of laces with a further row at the back (which Armand was becoming adept in fastening for her!) Her hair had grown and she used a length of green and cream linen twisted into it to sweep it from her face, but left it long at the back, although a few tendrils of her unruly curls always managed to escape.  
Eleanor and the children went about their weekly business on the market. Each encounter with a villager resulted in the question of Athos' whereabouts, and Eleanor sadly recounted that she had no news to share.  
News of the fighting in Lens had filtered through to changes felt by all - France seemed at peace, there was a general feeling of 'safety', but for Eleanor life seemed harsher and less certain rather than positive.  
The cart full, her purse both lighter and heavier and the children all munching happily on apricots she started to drive Tilly 'home', she pondered and considered that yes, she did think of the little house and farm outside of Pinon as her home. A home was a place of sanctuary and security, and this place certainly brought to mind those feelings for her. Tie those emotions with the unconditional love afforded her by the 3 dark and one fair children.....all that was missing was their true protector and her soul mate to make it perfect.  
Eleanor had spent many moments in prayer; she refused to believe that Athos was not going to return, she was absolutely certain that his friends would have sent word, or visited themselves if there was bad news, but as the days turned to weeks she became more frantic in her requests to her god.  
She was also concerned about the farm - the villagers were helpful, but the work was hard, and she had not been able to plant the fields fully - instead she'd concentrated on the livestock which she could manage more easily by herself. She'd hatched a great many geese and duck eggs and her goats had reared numerous kids. There would be plenty of food for them, and she'd already arranged barter for several of the animals, but she was starting to become concerned about parts of the house - the roof needed attention as did the latrine pit; which she would tackle, if needed, but would rather have Athos deal with both!  
__________________________  
The scenery started to look increasingly familiar and the leisurely pace of travel enabled Athos to drift in thought. He'd considered that he would see his family shortly, and he'd be reunited with Eleanor. They left each other with so many things unspoken between them; he was so happy to be returning relatively unscathed, although his shoulder still caused a lot of pain and had limited movement, but as they got closer to Pinon he had started to overthink things.  
Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan had distant memories of Athos' village of birth from the previous occasions they had visited it. They passed the remains of his manor at around midday and took the opportunity of pausing there to eat, drink and rest the horses.   
The charred remains of the manor had not been altered except by nature. He explained to his comrades that when he had signed over the lands to the villagers he had not specified the actual manor house, something which he had not considered an issue, he'd meant for them to have it all, but the villagers had taken the written statement rigidly at it's word and therefore nobody had touched the actual remains of the building - the walls still strong and sturdy, but the wooden beams and roof burned to charcoal. The land all around the building was now well cultivated however and they carefully ensured their horses and lounging bodies caused as little damage as possible.  
"How much further now?" Constance asked; she was the only one of the party who had not seen Athos' past. The size of the ruined home concerned her that his lands had been so extensive that there was a significant amount of riding still remaining, and she'd noticed Athos clutching at his shoulder.  
Aramis answered, "It can't be much further now," raising his brow at Athos who nodded in thin lipped agreement.  
"Did you send word to Eleanor?" D'Artagnan asked.  
Athos shook his head and looked a little rueful, "No, I sent word some weeks back that I was injured but recuperating. I wasn't sure how long we would take to get here, so I didn't want to worry her unduly."  
Porthos caught the slight narrowing of his friend's eyes; they'd had many an evening discussion involving her. Porthos' life as a general meant that he had limited, but passionate time together with Elodie when he could - it was a lifestyle which suited him, but although Athos had not mentioned much; it wasn't in his nature to; he'd said enough to make Porthos aware that Eleanor was important to him.  
"Will she be alright with us lot turning up unannounced?" he grinned.  
"Well, you may have to lodge with the animals, but......I'm sure she'll be happy to make all of you welcome.......not too many tales from the past though please.....allow me some mystery!" Athos grinned; his mood lifted due to his full belly and the rest to his aching shoulder.  
"Ooooh, what's it worth?!" Aramis quipped, tossing his apple core into the field.  
Amidst much laughing, remarks about some of Athos' past exploits - involving wine, swords, horses and more than one mention of pretty women - they saddled back up and started down the path which Athos knew would lead to his farm, avoiding the village itself which would be busy given that it was a Saturday.

They reached his home within twenty minutes.   
Athos had spotted the cart was missing and assumed they must be in the village, but he tied up Adila and went to check the stables - if Tilly was also gone it would be proof of his theory.  
D'Artagnan helped Constance down and both stretched, regarding the property and land. Porthos and Aramis remained mounted and walked their mounts around the main building and courtyard.  
_________________________  
Eleanor turned the cart along the track leading from the village to the house, she had started the children singing a song which they were now continuing themselves, at a somewhat louder and more excitable volume.  
She spotted the 2 unfamiliar men on horseback and her heart fell through the pit of her stomach. They were clearly military men in some capacity, and here.  
Eleanor spotted a man and woman standing in the doorway of the house - she was battling to prevent the lump in her throat turn into tears, and it was Armand in the back of the cart who noticed the horses:  
"That's Adila, that's Papa's horse!" he shouted as he recognised the massive, black mare who was snorting and hoofing the ground - presumably pleased to be back in familiar surroundings.  
Before she could stop him, Armand had leapt from the cart and was running towards the strangers, shouting for his father repeatedly.  
Jean and Isaac followed suit and Eleanor noted the smiles from the 'mystery riders' as the children stared up in awe at their mounts. She noticed that their smiles moved towards her as she freed Sylvie from the cart, she was now toddling about unaided, and as her soft, leather clad feet reached the ground she trotted after her brothers, afraid of missing out on the fun.  
"You must be Eleanor," Aramis spoke, lifting his hat in his typical, charming style.  
She nodded cautiously, but their smiles alone were not enough to settle the uneasy feeling she had - Athos' horse was there, but where was he?

In the stables he heard his son's voice, calling for him and made his way around to greet him.   
He strode across the ground quickly and beamed at the sight of his eldest son, running open armed towards him. He'd grown so much, and when the pair connected he winced and sharply breathed in with pain as his son clung to him.  
He used his left arm to stroke his son's dark curls and kissed his head repeatedly, swallowing tears of joy, although Armand let his own fall freely.  
His twin boys came running across, shouting "Papa!" and flung themselves on him, the pain was excruciating, but he would not have broken their clutches for anything!

Eleanor heard Jean's shouts of "Papa!" and looked past Porthos and Aramis.....and she saw him.  
Porthos watched her rather than the happy scene of the children; and he saw her press her hand to her chest before she turned to brace herself against the cart, wipe her eyes and busy herself with the items in the back. When she turned back, carrying a wide basket, she was a picture of composure....but Porthos had seen for himself that the sight of Athos made her come undone. He was happy for his friend.....and slightly envious; because my goodness, he'd underestimated her beauty!

The sight of the tiny, fair haired little girl wobbling on unsteady legs across the yard caught Athos' eye, and the huddle of dark masculinity paused. Athos could not believe the change in his daughter - she was walking, so healthy looking and so pretty with her blond curls around her face and her pretty, floral dress.   
"Hello there little one," he rumbled in his deep baritone, smiling warmly and holding out his good arm towards her.  
Sylvie stopped a few steps away from him and turned to Eleanor for reassurance, "Papa?" was her sweet, questioning voice as she pointed towards Athos. Eleanor inclined her head a little, smiled to show her neat teeth and nodded.  
And at that the little girl walked over to him, clung to his neck and showered him with kisses.  
Athos' heart almost burst; his daughter could walk and speak, and knew who he was....and Eleanor was there, looking unimaginably beautiful.

"Let us help you with this," D'artagnan and Constance made their way across to Eleanor, and it was Constance who spoke. She was slightly envious of Eleanor's beauty, but the warm and open smile she received back from her made her instantly think well of her.

Eleanor carried the basket inside and busied herself putting the items into the larder which needed to be kept cooler.  
"I'm Constance, and this is my husband, D'Artagnan," she said as the women fell naturally into the task of unpacking and preparing beverages for everyone.  
"Eleanor; well.....Marianne actually, but everyone calls me Eleanor," she explained. "D'Artagnan was a musketeer alongside Athos I think?" Eleanor queried.  
Constance nodded, "Yes, trained him, D'Artagnan owes his whole career and life to him really....he's a true friend!"  
"I feared the worst," Eleanor continued, addressing both of them, "news came through about the battle being a success months ago, but we heard nothing from Athos.....but I felt sure one of you would come to tell me if there was bad news....so when I saw you in the yard......"  
Porthos had joined them at this point, bringing with him the rest of the items from the cart.....this gave her reaction to seeing Athos a different perspective he thought - she'd assumed he was dead and they were here to inform her - no wonder she shed a tear!  
"He wrote to you weeks ago, when he was recovering," D'artagnan explained.  
Eleanor's eyes grew wide, "Recovering?"   
"Yes, butchered by Aramis in the name of saving my life.....but it's improving," Athos had made his way inside and was indicating his bent right arm and shoulder.  
Eleanor caught her breath again; he looked so handsome in his black, linen shirt and leather riding breeches, his leather jerkin was open and his sword and musket still attached at his belts....he looked like the epitome of a musketeer.....only older, wiser and softer.   
And he was back, standing in the kitchen of his home, and their eyes were locked on each other. She could hear him saying thank you to her for guarding his children, and he could hear her saying thank you to him for returning. She looked away before he could hear her say I missed you, and before she could hear him say I love you.....but the others saw and 'heard' it clearly enough.  
"Right, where are we sleeping?" Porthos announced.  
Constance turned towards Eleanor, "Shall we let them get on with dealing with that and get some food organised?" the friendly arm around Eleanor's shoulders from Constance felt safe and kind, but Constance could also see that Eleanor's eyes had become watery and allowed her the privacy of venturing into the larder alone to compose herself once more.

Athos ran his left hand through his hair and dragged his attention away from her. He wanted to talk to her, tell her everything in his heart, but he knew this wasn't the time or place; and the sooner he arranged places for everyone to sleep, the sooner he could be alone with her.


	22. .....finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos finally tells Eleanor his true feelings and things get quite full on!

The beds and rooms were rearranged so that Constance and D'artagnan could sleep in the 'children's room' with the small child's bed also in there for Sylvie, one of the children's beds was tucked into Athos's room for the 3 boys - Armand did not mind going back to sharing a bed as it meant his wonderful father was back home! - and the spare bed frames were brought down and arranged in the stables for Porthos and Aramis.  
Athos had noticed the increased luxury to each of the house beds - the mattresses were far thicker and softer and each bed was topped with a cover filled with goose down - which was warm but also light. Eleanor also appeared with plenty of spare bedding and essential items to make the visitors comfy. The house was full, but happy!

Constance sorted through their clothes to find which items needed washing most urgently and set about this task whilst Eleanor arranged food and brought down the spare stool and chair from her own room so that they could all be seated around the massive table.  
She'd put a pan of white beans on to cook earlier in the day with duck fat, but now she added some meaty sausages and took out an earthenware pot filled with succulent, slowly cooked duck legs which she would fry in their own fat, along with some potatoes from the garden. There was a huge bowl filled with tomatoes and salad leaves, plus salamis, cheeses, smoked duck breast and of course bread and creamy butter.  
There was plenty of wine plus some fortified apple brandy and she mixed together ingredients to place on top of the rest of the sweet apricots she'd bought at the market which she covered with honey; she'd cook it later to make a sort of cake for dessert as a special treat.

Arranging rooms and furniture took several hours, and Eleanor noticed that Athos carried out his own actions without using his right arm. This must be what he was 'recovering' from, she thought, and later, when she went out to the trough for water, she asked Constance.  
"How is he injured?"   
Constance related to her the extent of the injuries, and the method they'd used to stem the blood flow; she noticed Eleanor winced but didn't blanche at the description.   
"He was able to ride in small amounts, and he doesn't complain....much.....but he's alive!" and she held Eleanor by the elbows at this point.

The food was very well received - Eleanor almost fell into her habit of taking the seat at the top of the table, but remembered so as not to embarrass herself as Athos reclaimed that position. Eleanor sat halfway down one side, close to the larder so that she could replenish empty dishes and cups - she was not used to feeding 10 people....and certainly not ones with an appetite as huge as Porthos'!

Throughout the meal the conversation flowed happily; any unfamiliar characters or tales were quickly and effectively explained by the others so that Eleanor and in some cases Armand could join in the stories and discussions. Athos' eyes frequently sought out Eleanor; he had forgotten how beautiful she was, and how she took his breath away - she always had! She was looking particularly pretty and as the evening progressed and she consumed several cups of wine her laughter became more natural and carefree.   
Eleanor noticed how much Athos smiled as the evening progressed especially, and during some tales about poor d'artagnan his deep, rumbling laughter filled the room with his presence.  
The children started to nod, Sylvie had been taken up to sleep by Constance earlier, and yawns began to creep around the comfort of the table.  
Conatsnce and D'artagnan retired, followed by the boys, accompanied by Athos. Eleanor made sure that Aramis and Porthos had everything they needed before she made her way up the familiar staircase.  
She could hear Athos talking softly to Armand; they seemed to be discussing his injury, and Eleanor assumed Armand could see the wound, meaning that Athos had removed his shirt at least. She pressed her palm against his door and crossed to her own room.

She put on her clean nightgown and lay on her bed, turning her head towards the wall. On the creamy coloured wall she had sketched an image of Athos from her memory, using charcoal. It was a fine likeness of him - she'd often told Sylvie that it was her father, and today she'd been able to recognise him in person from it.  
She followed her usual nightly ritual of whispering, "Goodnight Athos, " before pursing her lips in a kiss towards his bearded cheek and softly shaded lips.

Athos had intended to return to his friends after settling the boys, but he noticed the darkness outside his door and instead rested a little. It felt so good to be back in his own bed, although the lack of privacy in his own room may require some care he thought, especially as Eleanor was just across the hallway. Thinking about her now made him harden, in fact he'd been supressing his erection since he caught sight of her in the yard. He longer hair was particularly fetching, and it looked like she'd gained a little weight, making her breasts appear even fuller and her waist smaller in her corset.  
_______________  
He awoke and realised there was something he'd yet to do. He dragged on his breeches and shirt and added his boots once he was at the door. Taking a candle which he lit from the embers of the fire he went over to Sylvie's grave. The moon was quite full in the cloudless sky, and he could easily see that her grave was well maintained. There were fresh flowers, lily-of-the-valley decorating it and their arrangement did not look like the work of a child. He touched the earth and the small plaque bearing the epitaph 'Maman', "I'm back," was all he said. He thought for a short time - he seldom said much to Sylvie now - in the early days he'd poured out his heart, telling her everything about his day; what the children had done - but he'd long since ceased in the need for this. he felt her spirit around him, and she had brought him to where he now was; but she was gone.   
He walked to the tree and rested against it, thinking of his wife - he felt that she too was now gone from his life - a vital part of making him who he was, and always someone he would love, but not part of the present or the future for him. He blew out the candle.  
He stood in silent contemplation for a while, one leg bent at the knee, his back resting against the tree trunk.  
______________  
She awoke and realised there was something she'd yet to do. She picked up her shawl and slipped on her soft, leather slippers before she went outside.  
She didn't need additional light; the moon was creating a natural glow. She walked towards Sylvie's grave and dropped to her knees upon reaching it. She reached out and placed her palm to the earth, "He's back....he's come back to us," she whispered, "I know we've both missed him....and yes, he's still as handsome as ever, although his shoulder is injured....I hope it isn't too painful and that it heals properly."  
From his position Athos witnessed and heard it all, he didn't try to remain secret, but nor did Eleanor glance around to notice him where he was standing. She looked like an ethereal vision - her hair was free from adornment and hung around her face and across her shoulders, her nightgown looked crisp and clean, it hung loosely, but the neckline was wide, meaning he could see large swathes of the skin at her neck.  
"And now he's brought his friends.....you know them all I know.......maybe he won't need me now though.......and he did say the house was full to bursting......I hope he doesn't send me away...." he voice drifted off and he saw her shoulders droop.  
Athos spoke softly, but the shock still caused Eleanor to start:  
"I shall never send you away........I need you; not them."  
He walked slowly over as Eleanor stood and walked away from the grave, towards the lavender in 'her' garden. Athos' larger strides caught up to her almost instantly and she stopped, twisting her nightgown in embarrassment.  
She felt his hand on her shoulder and he urged her to turn to face him. She did, but kept her gaze at the floor rather than risk looking into his eyes; which she knew she'd either fall into, or find mocking her again.  
"Don't make fun of me again," she almost sobbed, "I know you don't..."  
Her sentence was cut off by Athos's hand sliding from her shoulder to push her chin up, his thumb tracing along her jawline and his hooded eyes peering into her own as she finally had no option but to meet them.  
"I don't what?........care for you? " he punctuated the question by pressing his soft lips to her cheek, "Wrong....I care deeply for you," and he pressed a kiss to the other side of her face.   
Eleanor lowered her eyelids - the sensation of his eyes boring into her own and his warm lips caressing her skin was too much - and a sob caught in her throat.  
"I thought you were dead.....you didn't send word," she whispered, pressing her forehead into his chin and enjoying the sensation of the bristles of his beard.  
"Wrong again," another kiss, this time just to the side of her eye, "I did send word, but it obviously went astray," and a second kiss in the same place on the other side of her temples.  
"I've missed you," she whispered, as his hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers becoming tangled in her curls and his lips pressed across every part of her soft face. She let go of her nightgown and finally felt his firm body beneath her touch as she traced them up his chest, across the black linen. She delighted in the slight hitch to his breathing as she grazed across his hardening nipples beneath the flimsy fabric, and as her hand reached his cheek she allowed it to snake around to caress the nape of his neck.   
Then their lips met; there was a silent, focussed attention of their mouths pressing against each other. Both parted their lips at the same time and their tongues sought out each others', driving into each other warmly and insistently. Eleanor had never felt a sensation like it and her hands dragged through his hair to pull his neck towards her, not wanting the feeling to end. Athos himself was flooded with emotions - he'd kissed women before, he'd kissed women in all states of passion, but this was a searing heat that enflamed him. He moved his right arm in order to capture her waist and press her body to his whilst his left arm sought out the bare skin across her neck and shoulders.  
As the kiss intensified their breathing became ragged, interspersed with moans, and as Athos moved his lips to trail kisses along her neckline she whimpered his name into the night sky. This caused his erection to press even more rigidly against his breeches, and her stomach, which he held against him. Eleanor felt her knees buckle slightly as he sucked on a small patch of skin below her ear and they fell to their knees in the lavender.  
"Eleanor, I love you," Athos whispered, his eyes twinkling a little as they sought out her own.  
"I've loved you forever," Eleanor replied, seeing his slightly puzzled gaze, "I love you NOW," she added and lay back in the fragrant flowers, smiling up at him.  
A growl formed in Athos' chest and he arranged himself next to her, he propped himself up on his good arm and was able to move his right one enough to trace along her body.  
In return she tugged at the fabric of his shirt and helped him to pull it from his torso. She couldn't see any sign of injury to his chest, but the dark hair and small, burgundy nipples held her fascination, especially as she began to trail her fingers lightly across him and watched his expression flinch and his stomach muscles twitch. His lips found her mouth in another passionate and breath sucking kiss. His tongue explored her mouth in a way which made her feel both captured and free.  
He moved his head down the front of her shift and mouthed at her breasts over the fabric, marvelling in their softness and the nipples which he coaxed into hard pearls by sucking on them.  
Her head was thrown back as she writhed beside him and he noticed her gown fastened with ties at her shoulders. Continuing to suck on her breasts he pulled at the ties and on removing his mouth was able to pull the fabric down her body, exposing her creamy skin and rose pink nipples to him. He sucked in his breath as he let the fabric fall at her waist and traced delicately from her neck, down the centre of her body to her navel. He winced slightly as his shoulder became used to the stretched movement, but the way she arched her back and pushed her breasts towards him made the pain a distant memory.  
He kissed her whimpering lips again before trailing kisses across her belly, dipping his tongue into her belly button as he passed, eliciting a guttural moan from Eleanor. He pressed two of the fingers of his left hand to her lips from their position beside her head, and she sucked on them greedily as he placed his warm mouth over her taut nipple and lapped it with his soft, moist tongue.   
Eleanor felt so far from the ground......every sense was on fire and she could feel herself growing wet between her legs. She could also feel his firmness beneath his breeches, and although she'd never actually participated in sexual congress, she knew what was required....she was also slightly concerned that he might not fit.....but she also felt absolutely that she wanted to find out.  
Athos moved across to her other breast, his right hand slipped below her rumpled gown and brushed over the mound of soft thatch between her legs. Eleanor felt like she might explode with delight as his firm fingers slipped between her folds. She heard him gasp delightedly as he found her wetness and he stifled her almost sob as he moved them slowly up and down her sticky slit.  
Removing them he saw her look of frustration and kissed her deeply again before he dragged the gown completely from her and rolled her onto it as he moved himself down her body so that he was between her legs. As she rose up to try to make sense of his actions she caught sight of the black scar on his shoulder; if anything it made him more attractive in her eyes and she sank back, giving herself over to whatever he proposed. She felt his stubbled chin and warm lips moving along her thigh, first one, then the other, and he secured his injured arm beneath her hips. His hot breath against her pink folds felt delicious, and he spent some time stroking her, investigating her and watching her reactions; discovering which actions brought her pleasure. Eleanor felt herself unravelling in his arms, and just felt the sensation of wanting more, much more of whatever it was he was doing to her.  
And then his mouth engulfed her and she forgot about breathing for a while. She felt his probing tongue lick slowly and deliberately along her, it lapped at her entrance before creeping up to a place at the front of her mound, the place she liked to rub against herself, but Athos' mouth sucking and flicking it with his tongue was a whole different feeling.  
She put her hand into her own mouth to stifle some of her moans, but Athos himself was moaning and growling deliciously as he worked her with his mouth. this was something he hadn't done for a very long time; he was good at it and he enjoyed making a woman he desired fall apart in his arms. He sensed Eleanor was ready for more and slipped one of his strong, calloused fingers inside her slick core, feeling her walls flex and quiver against him and feeling. She called out his name as he continued to use his fingers and mouth to bring her to ecstasy. He knew she was close and adding a second finger caused her to arch up against him and she started to undulate against him as he stroked her orgasm to a climax.  
Eleanor had never known a sensation quite like what she was experiencing - she had learned how to satisfy herself and a man, but when she'd used her own fingers on herself it had never felt this good.  
The solid pressure of Athos' squirming fingers combined with his persistent mouth was bringing her to the peak of arousal. Athos heard her make a low, deep sound in her throat and felt a shuddering clench to her around his fingers and he watched as she writhed against him, seeking the sensation to continue in wave after wave. She opened her eyes to see, with delight, that he was watching her as she came in a shuddering orgasm. He seemed to draw the feeling out of her, not slowing or ceasing his actions until he was satisfied that she was spent.  
He crawled back up her body and kissed her; she could feel his hardness pressed against her and the smell and taste of her own juices on his lips and beard was starting to excite her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....yes, I know, lavender would be incredibly uncomfortable, but it's fiction....go with it!  
>  And yes, it does continue in the next chapter!


	23. Under the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor and Athos continue getting to know each other in the lavender!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep; more sex!

Eleanor couldn't believe what she'd just experienced, but she also knew that Athos had not been quite as satisfied as she had been by his oral onslaught. She could feel his hardness through his breeches and now wanted to experience everything with him, she wanted to give him as much pleasure as he'd given to her.  
His hungry tongue continued to explore her mouth and his left hand caressed her skin, the feel of it delighted him as did her moaning and evident longing for him.  
She pulled his face away from her so that she could look into his eyes; they were dark with desire and felt slightly dangerous and wild as they bored into her own.  
She maintained his gaze as she took her hands to the band of his breeches. Her elegant fingers dealt with the fastenings and she hitched her thumbs into the leather, sliding her palms down pressing firmly against his hips and thighs. He had pulled them on in haste, without braies and he gasped as her fingers grazed against his bare skin.  
Eleanor clasped her lip between her teeth as she felt the soft, downy hair of his buttocks under her fingers, and then inhaled sharply as he shifted his weight and his erection eased free from it's restraint. Eleanor had seen statues and paintings of nudes, but had never seen an aroused man's body; and Athos' cock looked most unlike a piece of Italian artwork!  
He was enjoying watching her observe his body; she seemed unphased by him, in fact her eyes were intrigued by each slight twitch and movement of his length. She was surprised at how it could be hidden beneath his clothes when it was this large and stiff, standing away from his belly. It looked smooth and had a sheen to it and she wanted to touch it, the way she'd been educated in the French court.  
She raised her eyes below her lashes and gave him a look of pure sensuality. Athos growled in his chest as she pressed the palm of her hand along his length. At the tip she twisted her palm and lowered her hand back down to where it joined his body. She smiled as his expression changed and his eyes fell closed, his breath coming in sharp hitches as she grasped her hand firmly around him, her fingertips not quite meeting. She rubbed her thumb across the small, leaking split and captured his mouth and the gasp which emanated from it in her own as her tongue slid against his.   
Athos's hand was cupping the weight of her rounded breast and his thumb rolled her nipple until it was taut, pinched and almost painful. He had toed off his boots and kicked himself free of his leather breeches so the pair of them lay naked beneath the stars; the evening birdlife the only observers to their glorious dance.   
He wanted to take her desperately, and her confident exploration of his body made him think that she wanted to be taken by him, although he knew that having not laid with a woman in years, and having wanted her for so long he would surely not be able to last long once he was inside her.  
"Eleanor, I want you.......may I?" he groaned hoarsely into her neck.  
"I want you Athos......I want us to become one, right here...." she panted, her lips darkened and parted with desire for him.  
He positioned her more comfortably beneath him, taking his weight on his strong arm.  
He looked down at her, slightly self conscious suddenly, "It's been a long time since..........." his voice drifted off as he stroked her cheek tenderly with the tips of his fingers.  
She smiled up, openly at him, "Well, if it helps I have absolutely nothing for comparison!"  
he narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, "Then I'm sorry, but I may hurt you.....but I'm told it is only momentary....forgive me," and he kissed her lips in a slow, gentle statement of his intent.  
Eleanor had always thought that she would feel uncomfortable, awkward and scared at this moment, but with Athos' lips on hers and his body pressed so close to hers she felt as if she was in the safest place in the world.  
She shifted her hips beneath him and opened her legs to him, feeling him firmly press against her stomach. He cupped her cheek in his hand, his fingers delving into her hair as his tongue delved into her mouth, seeking out her own which matched his in intensity.  
A slight shift in his shoulders and hips and she felt his hard tip against her opening; it felt big and powerful, and yet he looked at her so tenderly.   
He slid inside her moist walls feeling her tight around him and paused to allow her to grow used to him there. Her sharp intake of breath caused her to clench around him, but as he withdrew and pushed into her a second time she became wetter and he was able to slip deeper into her.  
Athos was desperately trying to maintain control of himself; the sensation of her tight cunny wrapped around his throbbing cock....finally....was like heaven, but he didn't want to cause her pain, or scare her; it was her first time and he wanted it to be pleasurable for them both. However as he drove into her a third time he felt her hands claw at his back and hips began to undulate against him and when he snapped his head back to look down at her he saw that she was lost in pleasure, watching as her pale thatch mingled with his dark hair where they were joined.  
He would have usually increased his pace at this point, but there was something almost magical about their bodies slowly undulating together as he delivered slow, languid thrusts into her. Their mouths and breath mingled, sweat trickled down the centre of his back and she bent her legback high, wrapping it around his back, pressing his hips and arse down and further inside her.  
Eleanor could never have imagined that this was what men and women did together - every woman who'd spoken to her of the 'act' had told her to dread it; that it would hurt, that the man would be rough and that it would give her no pleasure.....clearly those women hadn't met Athos!  
He dipped his head down to capture her hard nipples in punishing kisses, his beard adding to the sensation as he nudged and sucked at them. She slipped her hands down to grab his buttocks and dug her nails into the firm flesh, causing him to swell slightly inside her, and making her gasp at the increased size filling her.  
Athos had begun to increase his pace, and her hips matched each thrust in a perfectly building rhythm. Athos brought his mouth back to hers and they found they were simply smiling at each other for a brief moment before he saw her eyes begin to glaze and roll and felt a slight quivering of her walls. She was close and he wanted to come inside her, to come with her. He focussed on her as she moaned his name once, then a second time and on the third occasion she only managed 'Ath' before dissolving beneath him. The sight and sound was too much and he growled into her neck as he spilled his hot seed deep within her, needing several firm thrusts to empty himself fully as she clasped him to her and rode out her orgasm fully.  
She held him to her as his hardness ebbed away and he eventually withdrew from her, causing a slight whimper of loss from her lips.  
He lay against her soft breasts, his injured arm resting across her thighs and focussed on breathing again.  
"Did I hurt you?" he asked lazily, nuzzling at the curve of her breast.  
Eleanor giggled and combed her fingertips through his hair, "Not really.....I've been riding astride for quite a long time!" and laughed as he lifted his face towards her, pouting,  
"Are you comparing me to a horse?" he asked, with a raised brow and a look of mischief.  
Eleanor considered her response and decided on an equally mischievous raised eyebrow back, resulting in a torrent of animalistic kisses across her chest, arms and neck.  
They lay under the stars together, each thinking about how long that had been wanting that moment to happen....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and yep, they are going to carry on inside next!!!!


	24. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos and Eleanor go inside together and talk; Eleanor confesses several things to Athos.  
> They engage in a bit more naughtiness too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor is going to talk a little about her childlessness, so if this is likely to affect you either be strong, grab some tissues or leave this for another day.

They lay, naked bodies entwined for what felt like a lengthy time, but Eleanor was finding it difficult to focus her thoughts on anything except the feelings of delight shuddering through her as she lay, wrapped in the strong arms of the man she had loved for so long.  
As she shivered Athos assumed it was through cold and suggested that they go inside.  
As he pulled on his breeches and boots, she dragged her nightgown back over her head and fastened the ties enough to prevent it falling down. He picked up his shirt, not bothering to put it back on and they walked with fingers loosely tangled together into the house.  
Athos lead the way up the stairs, their hands still clasped together, and he paused at her door. Lifting her fingers to his lips he huskily applied his lips to her knuckles and whispered, "Sleep well my love."  
Eleanor smiled, firstly at the term of endearment he had used on her, and secondly at the sensation of his rough stubble against her fingers. He took a step away from her, letting his arm stretch to continue to meet her finger tips, and she met his gaze through sensual eyes as she tightened her grip and beckoned him to follow her rather than cross the landing to his own room.  
She enjoyed the feeling of control and power over him as he meekly followed her through her doorway and she decided to continue this as she lead him to her bed, seated him on it with a firm push to his chest, and dropping to her knees began to remove his leather boots. He appeared mesmerised by her confidence and watched carefully as she drew her lips together and began to unfasten his breeches once more.  
Partway through the process she ceased, rose from her knees and wandered to the other side of the bed, pulling her nightgown from her body as she did. Athos finished removing his breeches and turned onto the bed, watching as she arranged herself next to him, pulling the covers down and sliding her toes beneath them.  
He was aroused by her body and wanted desperately to feel himself inside her again, but he didn't want to make too many demands of her, unless she desired it. He traced his fingertips across her body and they kissed passionately, lips and tongues engaged in a swirling display of hunger for the other.  
Athos' hand slid down to nestle between her legs, and as she parted them he moaned as he discovered how wet and aroused she was for him again. After several firm strokes of her slick folds he deftly inserted 2 of his strong, thick fingers inside her to his knuckles and paused to allow her to relax around them, her face a picture of pleasure and need.  
Slowly he began to move them in and out, spreading her juices across her pink folds with his palm and grazing his thumb across the front of her thatch to create a perfect rhythm and range of sensations causing Eleanor to bite into his shoulder - thankfully his left one which he was resting on, his right arm could apparently manage this level of physical activity!  
He could feel her verging on reaching a climax, but his own needs were becoming apparent as his hard length pressed against her thigh. Reaching down, she clasped her fingers around him and seemed to speak with her eyes and parted lips of her wishes.  
Athos removed his fingers and was about to position himself when Eleanor instead pushed him back into the bed and mounted him, the analogy he'd suggested earlier uppermost in her mind, and she did indeed intend to ride him.  
Using her hands on his chest to steady herself she pushed her hips up so that she could feel the end of his straining length pressing against her entrance. She slid some of her moistness across it, watching the mixture of ecstatic and agonising facial expressions on Athos; then she pushed down and allowed the throbbing head to slide inside her tight walls.  
They both inhaled and Athos arched his hips up to permit more of him inside, but Eleanor gave him a mischievous look and pushed him back, writhing around just the head of him and placing a finger to his lips to calm his anguished gasps. He accepted the digit and sucked on it desperately, as a means of controlling himself as she slowly and deliberately decided when she would permit more of his straining length inside her.  
Having pulled back and thrust down several times against him, each time resulting in more of his cock filling her she eventually felt his firm body meeting hers and she replaced her finger with her tongue as they bucked and ground against each other.  
She pushed herself off him in order to enjoy the sensation of being filled again by him and he looked down, mesmerised by the sight of his length disappearing inside her pink centre, their fair and dark hair mingling together as they met.  
The deepness of Athos within her meant that he knew he could not last long, and eager to pleasure her he used his strong arm to pull her body down, her breast naturally coming to rest at his mouth. He engulfed and sucked eagerly on it, enjoying the whimpering noises emanating from Eleanor as he did; she was enjoying the sight of him devouring her as well as the increased sensation from being pressed forwards against his firm belly.  
He heard the moan developing in her throat and sensed a quivering to her walls, a slight clenching around him, making him harder and closer to coming inside her and as she collapsed onto him he grasped her hips and drove himself more roughly and deeply into her, spending himself fully and powerfully.  
She rolled herself across him, falling to one side of his body, her leg draped across him and as their breathing became more normal he pulled the covers around them and they made themselves comfortable, Eleanor's head resting against Athos's better shoulder and his weaker arm resting across his own body, his hand stroking her waist and hip lazily.  
"What did you mean earlier when you said you had loved me forever?" he asked, kissing her hair lightly and inhaling the glorious scent of her.  
Eleanor smiled and turned to face him, resting her cheek on her fist.  
"Just what I said, you are the only man I've ever truly loved. I decided when I was a very little girl that I wanted to marry you - my nurse had told me I wasn't allowed to marry any of my brothers you see!" they both giggled at this, " So, I decided that I would have you instead, being as though you and Thomas were the only other boys I knew at that stage!"  
Athos winced a little at the mention of his dead brother, "But surely everyone preferred Thomas - he was considered far more handsome than me!"  
Eleanor made a slight face, "Thomas always made me feel slightly uncomfortable; when we played games and I was caught by you, or my brothers, I felt safe even though you were all rough and tumble with me; but Thomas, sometimes I felt like he might get a bit too rough....I can't quite explain, he was never actually nasty to me, it's sad that he died," Eleanor added, Athos' face becoming brooding as she spoke.  
"Anyway, as we grew up I saw you a few times, and obviously you were always the most handsome boy to me, and then I saw you in Fontainbleu and you were the most handsome man too........." Eleanor continued, nuzzling into his neck.  
Athos' face softened as he listened and thought back to his own memories of Eleanor from his own youth.  
"So, when my father told me that I should consider marriage he asked if there was anyone I'd met at court whom I favoured, and I told him that it was you; well, he was thrilled of course, so he wrote a letter asking permission for you to consider me as a match," Eleanor's voice drifted out at this point, and she pressed her cheek to his chest.  
Athos brought his head up slightly as he thought back in time, he'd never received any such letter from Eleanor's father, "....but, I never...."  
His comment was cut short by Eleanor, "No, you never received it, because it was never sent."  
Athos cast a quizzical look at her, silently asking why?  
Eleanor bit her lip slightly before answering, "Word reached us about your impending marriage to Anne De Winter; so.........that was the end of that dream," and she lowered her gaze, focussing on the way the hair on his chest grew. "Nobody ever came close in my affections.......so I didn't intend to marry; until of course you know what happened with the Baron." Eleanor sniffed and seemed to mentally wipe clean her memories at this point, and she met his tender gaze.  
"You loved me all that time? And you were prepared to be alone rather than accept someone else?" Athos breathed deeply and tightened his grip around her body, pulling her to him. "So.....do you know what happened? To me and Anne?" he asked.  
Eleanor pursed her lips, "Well, I assume you are still married to her, and that is why you could not marry Sylvie....and also why you cannot marry me!" she smiled as she spoke, as if trying to convince him that it was of no interest to her.  
Athos held her and dipped his head down her body, peppering kisses along her body, "It's complicated," was all he could say, "But it doesn't change how I feel about you?" he raised his eyes to meet hers from his position next to her belly.  
He rested there, stroking her stomach and side as his cheek pressed into her.  
Eleanor looked down at him, there was something about his head resting there that made her consider a further confession.  
"Athos.......I need to tell you something else," her body and voice was clenched, which Athos sensed from his position. He raised his face to hers; it was full of love and openness.  
"What is it?" he asked, calmly and tenderly.  
Eleanor breathed shallowly, causing her voice to come out unnaturally high, "I can't give you any more children.......I can't give any man a child."  
Athos saw the single, fat tear which escaped from her left eye as she spoke. Leaning against her belly, knowing that she was thinking about how empty it had and would always be he was unsure what to say. He had naturally thought that a child together could be possible, and yes, he supposed now that he thought about it, he'd imagined her with a swollen belly and their child growing inside her; but the fact that she wasn't able to fulfil that did not actually matter to him. What he was considering however was how he could support her with her own emotions; to not be able to carry out a function which seemed so easy and natural for most must surely impact upon her feelings. He thought of the way she had dealt with his children; how he hadn't even considered how she might feel being landed with looking after them as he went off to fight. He was aware that he'd remained silent for perhaps too long, and his gaze had drifted as he'd focussed on his own thoughts. Bringing his gaze back to her he noticed that she was trembling and clearly trying to will him find this acceptable; almost shouting silently to him to still think of her as a woman, to still want her.  
"Why would we want more than 4 children?........5 if we include Porthos!" he said, softly and smiling deep inside her, letting her know that he very much thought of her as a woman, mother and desired her no less. He kissed her smooth skin and rested his head once more against her hip, Eleanor lay her head back against her pillow and allowed silent tears to trickle from her eyes; although there were no painful sobs; just a feeling of acceptance and eventual happiness that she had Athos for her own. At last.  
They slept.


	25. Good morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor and Athos wake up together. Their love making is overheard by Constance and D'artagnan. The 2 men congratulate themselves and each other on their good fortune....and the ladies compare notes!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun and fluff!

Eleanor awoke to a new and unusual, thunderous sound. She felt that she was naked and also felt an unfamiliar sensation down in her quim.  
The noise continued.  
Turning in her bed she was greeted by the sight of Athos' naked body. He was stood at and using her piss pot - hence the noise.  
Eleanor tried, but failed to stifle her giggles, causing Athos to turn, but continue his bodily function.  
"Something amusing?" he grinned slyly as he poured water onto his palm, wiping his cock and then washing his hand again, shaking the excess water as he headed back towards the bed.  
Eleanor continued to giggle, "I don't think I've ever had a man share my piss pot before.....and it wasn't quite the romantic vision I had for waking up next to you," and she squealed as Athos squirmed under the covers, covering her buttocks with kisses and sliding his hands up to cup her breasts.  
"How romantic would you like it to be then?" he asked, pressing his body against her back, mouthing at the nape of her neck, his arousal evident.  
"Oh, I'd pictured us entwined in each others' arms, you kissing the tips of my fingers.........and then making love to me......slowly and very thoroughly," and Eleanor giggled sexily as Athos moved above her, whispering in her ear deliciously:  
"Let's skip to the last bit then while we are both awake."  
He rubbed against her, snaking his fingers down to test out how wet she was as they kissed languidly and passionately.  
Tender and insistent groans emanated from them both as Athos swirled his fingers across her pink folds, teasing against her entrance as she opened like a flower for him.  
He loved the deeply sensual nature she exuded beneath him; her fingers and mouth seeking him out, sucking on his nipples and neck hungrily whilst her tongue bruised his own. She seemed confident in seeking out her own pleasure from him, which was incredibly erotic to him.  
The leather strapping of the bed joined in the groans and as he lifted her leg to gain greater access and slid into her, she let out a stifled sob; burying her head into the pillow so as not to cry out in pleasure.  
Their bodies pulsed together as they created a persistent rhythm, Athos filling her to his hilt, his arm tilting her hips up to him and balancing on his knees.  
Eleanor arched her body and writhed into each thrust, pinching one of Athos' nipples tightly between her elegant fingers and pressing her palm into his mouth to quieten his moans as his desperation for release mounted.  
He held her firmly as he flipped her over so that she was riding him again, pushing her back so that she was recumbent, grasping his leg and grinding herself into the firmness of his belly. She could feel the now almost familiar sensation of driving towards complete fulfilment and felt her neck become weak as Athos reached down to where they were joined, circling his thumb across her slit, to locate her bud, a few small caresses was all it took for her to start spiralling down.  
____________  
Across the hallway, D'artagnan stirred in bed, Constance next to him.  
A rhythmical creak made him raise his eyebrows, and a stifled feminine whimper, followed by a deep, familiar laugh - but clearly not because of a joke - made it clear what was happening in Eleanor's room.  
He had become slightly lost in voyeuristic eavesdropping and didn't notice Constance waking until she reached around and grabbed his hard manhood.  
They kissed each other with a comfortable and undiluted passion after several years of marriage, and were inspired by the activities which they imagined matched the noises they could hear.  
___________  
Athos came swiftly after Eleanor; the sight of her unravelling on top of him and clenching around his shaft was too much to endure. And they lay wrapped in each others' arms, a shimmer of dewy sweat covering their cheeks.  
"Was that thorough enough?" Athos panted, stroking her hair as she lay on his chest.  
Eleanor was only able to smile against him and mumble, "mmmmmhmmmmm," by way of reply.  
They lay together a while longer, Athos noticed the charcoal image of himself sketched on the wall beside the bed and smiled at the thought of her showing it to Sylvie so that she would remember her father's face. He enjoyed holding her close to him, but he remembered that his children would shortly wake up and find him missing from his bed.  
"I should get up.....don't want the boys to wonder where I am," he said gently.  
Eleanor smiled, how like him to think about them! She nodded and dragged her arm across his body as he rose, wanting her finger tips to touch his naked skin for as long as possible.  
"You should stay here and rest for a while," he kissed her as he pulled his shirt on and picked up his boots and breeches. He kissed her once more as he went back to his room.  
Armand was just stirring as Athos started to dress properly for the day; braies beneath his fresh linen breeches which had been neatly folded in the wooden chest and a fresh shirt; the one Eleanor had sewn for him.  
"Get dressed and come down for breakfast, " he whispered to Armand who was yawning and stretching like a cat.  
_______________  
Athos went out to get water from the trough and doused himself liberally, feeling refreshed in many ways! He smiled at the rising sun and found himself humming as he combed through his soaked hair with his fingers, scraping some of it back into a knot at the back of his head.  
He didn't hear the approaching footsteps of d'Artagnan, but turned towards him with a grin as his friend stretched himself out on the wooden chair, resting his ankles on the water trough and lacing his hands behind his head, meeting his grin with his own satisfied smirk.  
"I'm guessing she was doing a bit more than your laundry in there," d' artagnan winked as his friend swiped at his legs good naturedly with his rolled drying cloth. "Although it did have rather a pleasant side effect for me.....so by all means make it a regular part of your morning routine!"  
Athos considered a retaliatory comment, but instead poured out 2 cups of wine and offered one to his friend; he raised his eyebrow and touched his cup to the other.  
Athos joined d'artagnan in sitting languidly in the morning sunshine and in time Aramis and Porthos ambled over from the stables to join them.  
"Sleep well?" Aramis innocently queried.  
The sound of Constance and Eleanor's mischievous giggles emanating from the room above made Athos and D'artagnan exchange knowing looks; spotted by Porthos who laughed in his deep, throaty baritone, "Good man!" he went to slap Athos on the shoulder, but remembered in the nick of time, "so, I'm guessing a hearty breakfast will be in order?"  
The quartet groaned.....Porthos' legendary ability to never forget his stomach never ceased to amaze them.  
___________  
Upstairs, Constance had dressed and heard Athos and her husband outside. She knocked on Eleanor's door, "Can I come in?" she asked, receiving a welcome from Eleanor.  
Her nakedness beneath the covers and her discarded nightgown filled in any blanks which may have existed, as did her smiling and rosy cheeks.  
"So? I'm guessing not much sleeping went on in here last night?" Constance laughed.  
Eleanor shot her a slightly embarrassed look, but was met with a warm smirk from Constance.  
"You woke D'artagnan up.....and then he woke me up!.....I'm definitely not complaining!" she giggled, which caused a girlish eruption of laughter from them both.  
"I should get up.......I'm ravenous," Eleanor admitted as Constance passed her her nightgown and she dragged it over her head.  
"I worked up quite an appetite myself! Can you walk?" Constance asked saucily amidst more laughter.  
"Touch and go!" Eleanor admitted.  
"I'm not surprised.......Athos is hung like a horse!" and seeing Eleanor's quizzical look added, "We lived quite close up in Lens! You should be thankful you didn't succumb to Porthos' charms!!" she grinned.  
Eleanor nodded slightly; not completely sure how to take Constance's openness.......although she felt innately that she liked her, and it was nice to have another female to confide in.  
"Was it delicious?" Constance asked, smiling and waggling her brows suggestively.  
Eleanor could not stop the wide grin on her face and nodded, "TOTALLY!"


	26. Lazy Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group spend time getting to know each other. Athos and Eleanor discover how the children feel about them.  
> We become aware of a visitor to the village.

Constance went to retrieve Sylvie, who had woken due to the increased noise from across the hallway. The 3 boys had dressed themselves and were making their own way downstairs to wash.  
Jean faltered a little when faced with the 4 burly men around the front doorway, but recognised his father's soft eyes and joined his brothers as they washed in the trough.  
"Any place around here to bathe?" asked Aramis.  
The thought of full immersion in refreshing, clean water was inviting to them all - and the boys secretly wanted to see if their father had any new scars. They knew he'd been injured, he'd told them when they hugged him before going to sleep.....they all thought he was the bravest soldier in the world. However, the prospect of getting to compare their papa's battle scars to those of 3 other musketeers was just too excited.  
"Can we take them to the lake Papa?" Isaac asked, hopping from one foot to the other; Armand had ceased pumping water - if they were bathing he wouldn't bother washing further!  
"Has Eleanor made any soap recently?" Athos asked them, grinning; causing them to run wildly back into the house to gather cloths to dry themselves on.

Eleanor had risen and dressed and was making her way downstairs. She asked the excited boys what was happening and was rewarded with the details of the 'boys outing'. It made her blush to think of the many pleasant outings she'd had at the small, secluded lake.  
She informed Constance as they dressed Sylvie.   
"So.....we'll have some time without them!" Constance smiled.  
"hmmmm, although it means they'll get out of doing any of the work.......we don't have days off here!" Eleanor pointed out.  
"Oh, we'll manage without them - probably get it done in half the time!" they laughed as they descended the staircase.

Athos caught Eleanor's eyes immediately and smiled warmly at her. To be honest, he'd had to stop himself from rushing over and kissing her - she looked beautiful in her pretty, embroidered shift beneath a blue overdress - but he wasn't sure how she would want to behave infront of the others, and the children. He knew that all of the men knew that they'd been intimate....but she didn't know that - and he didn't want her to think he'd been discussing it.

Eleanor felt a blush creeping across her chest and cheeks as Athos smiled at her; images of his face above her own, between her legs or resting on her belly flashed infront of her memory and she absently fidgeted with the ties of her sleeves. She made her way through to the larder and started to gather various items for a quick breakfast: salamis, hard cheese, butter, bread and eggs. She was about to take the pile through to the table when she felt a pair of strong hands snake around her waist and Athos' soft lips nuzzling her hair and the nape of her neck.  
"Do you mind if we all disappear? Bathing after all that time in the saddle would be bliss.....although I'm not completely sure how much bliss a man can realistically endure!" Eleanor had tipped her head back, lengthening her neck for him to kiss.  
"Go! Your list of jobs can start tomorrow - I'll grant you one day of mercy, since you were very diligent in your tasks last night....." she giggled.  
"......and this morning," he added. "Now, tell me you have soap!"  
"Always!" she laughed and headed towards a large hamper just outside the larder which was stacked with bars. "I'm taking some to the village tomorrow, but we can spare a few."  
They kissed, deeply and passionately before heading back to join the others.

Armand had watched them; he wasn't sure how to feel about his father kissing Eleanor - he'd planned on asking her to marry him when he was old enough; although he wasn't sure how long that would take. Maybe it was better to have her marry Papa; at least that way she'd never leave them.  
He was quite sombre as the 7 of them made their way noisily towards the swimming lake hidden off the track. Athos noticed his quiet nature, but made a note to talk more to him - maybe he had not given his son enough attention; he'd have to be careful to not allow his feelings for Eleanor affect things.

Constance and Eleanor watched the men folk disappear and breathed a sigh as quietness ensued. Sylvie accompanied them to the stables where they made light work of milking the goats and collecting the eggs (helped by Sylvie), they talked in an easy companionship as they completed their tasks - Eleanor learned a lot about Constance and her early life with D'artagnan; about her first husband and about her worries for Paris. Eleanor in turn was careful to explain a little of her past - how she knew Athos as a girl and their families, but she didn't quite feel able to discuss her time in prison.  
They spent some time tidying the house and complained good naturedly about the mess men seemed to make; including the 3 boys in that description. Messy men!

At the secluded pool the men were living up to this nickname - clothes were strewn across rocks; boots discarded randomly and clean cloths scattered at the shallow edge to the water.  
The men had stripped off at the sight of the inviting water; all 4 comfortably naked in each others' presence. Isaac, Jean and Armand had been mesmerized by the various scars on display; the muscular bodies of the 4 men and their contrasting skin tones and hairiness. Jean was even more convinced that he too would become a brave soldier one day.  
They noticed the vivid black scar on their father's shoulder: this was new, it looked painful, brutal....it made their father look like a hero!  
Athos had waded confidently out into the water, followed by Aramis and both floated languidly into the middle of the water; enjoying its coolness and weightless sensation.  
Porthos entered more cautiously; he liked to remain in his depth and since taking on his role as general found it harder to 'switch off' his observant nature. D'artagnan on the other hand had scrambled around to the one overhanging bank and proceeded to leap into the water, landing almost fully on top of Aramis who spluttered to the surface in order to duck his friend back under by way of reprisal!  
The trio of young boys couldn't help but squeal with laughter as they too stripped off and took running jumps into the water.  
Much enjoyment was had by all!  
Armand looped his arms around his father's neck, straddling him as they both floated.  
"You are quiet my boy, anything on your mind?" he asked the dark eyed weight on his back.  
Armand was so relaxed and happy; his father was back, his father had kissed Eleanor, he loved Eleanor, did he mind that Eleanor wasn't his mother? He decided that no; he didn't mind it at all.  
"I saw you kissing Eleanor Papa," he whispered secretively into Athos' ear.  
Athos breathed deeply, unsure of what might be said next; unsure of how Armand may feel - his children had never seen him with anyone other than their mother.  
Armand continued however, "I shall let you have her Papa; I'll be like a chivalrous knight and admit that you have won the fair lady....I'll probably marry Claudine from the village instead!" and with that he kissed his father's cheek and slithered off to join in a game which appeared to be Porthos throwing each boy by one arm and one leg into the air to land with a huge splash.  
Athos almost couldn't stop himself from laughing....where on earth had his son learned such stories of knights and chivalry....although he was proud of him.....AND his taste in women!!

Having completed all of the immediate jobs on the farm the women's bellies began to rumble.  
"I assume you know where they've gone? Shall we take them some refreshments do you think, otherwise we may never get them home!" Constance suggested.  
Eleanor had nodded in agreement of the plan and they prepared a selection of things to take, including some wine and of course milk for the children.   
They set off down the path and Eleanor giggled as she recounted to Constance how she'd seen Athos further down the stream; she even told her about how she'd overreacted to him gutting fish and run off sobbing like a fool. The 2 women felt like kindred spirits; Constance had herself reacted badly to many events in her and D'artagnan's past.  
They could hear them way before they could see them. Constance indicated for them to be quiet and sneak up - Eleanor was a little unsure knowing how she herself had bathed there - maybe they'd be in their braies! But Constance seemed so familiar around them all; and Eleanor was suddenly quite eager to compare Athos' body to other men's......especially given Constance's comment about Porthos!  
Eleanor guided her friend through the trees and both women clasped hands and gasped at the sight before them - all 4 men were in the water; Aramis making his way towards the rocks, caramel skinned buttocks becoming visible as he exited. Athos was floating on his back, spurting water from his mouth like a whale with Isaac and Jean copying like a school of fish. D'artagnan was drying off on the rocks with a cloth on his head, roughly pummelling his hair dry. Porthos was splayed across the rocks evidently allowing the sun to dry his massive bulk....and Eleanor's eyes were drawn to a significant part of that bulk,  
Constance noticed her widened eyes and whispered, "Told you to be thankful it was Athos instead of Porthos!" winking mischievously.  
Eleanor was somewhat transfixed, all of them were very definitely decent specimens of masculinity - each with slightly different physiques, and a varied assortment of scars. Athos' latest scar was prominent, as was the red bullet wound D'artagnan had suffered at the same time, but their overwhelming confidence and swagger was enigmatic.   
"It's a lovely sight isn't it!" Constance sighed. "I love d'artagnan, and he definitely still excites me; but I can't help but envy you a bit - Athos has got an amazingly masculine body.....I wish D'artagnan had a bit more hair like that," she put her head on one side, shamelessly savouring the view.  
Eleanor had ceased feeling self conscious and joined Constance in contemplation,  
"D'artagnan mightn't be hairy, but he's got a very slender waist," she mused, "and his skin is a very beautiful shade," she added.  
Constance smiled in regard for her husband. However Aramis had begun to dry a particular part of his anatomy which made them both unable to drag their eyes from him. Athos had also begun to leave the water, much to the annoyance of his 3 sons, but much to the delight of the women.  
Constance had lifted up Sylvie who had become bored of picking leaves and was clamouring for attention. Much to the mortification of the pair she repeated her reaction on seeing him the previous day, only significantly more confidently as a wet, naked Athos turned fully to face them and the boys in the water,

"Papa!"   
The sound pierced the air making all of the 4 men startle, Porthos out of instinct reached for the musket he was not carrying!  
It was D'Artagnan who spotted them, "have you been spying on us?" he shouted as they all began, and then gave up trying to cover themselves!  
Laughing, the women made their way back to the path and around to join their men giving them an opportunity to pull on their braies and breeches to at least portray a semblance of respectability.  
Sylvie grizzled at the sight of her brothers having fun in the water until Armand came over and held her hands to allow her to paddle, Eleanor pulled off her smock so that she could splash around some more with her brothers carefully guiding her.  
"So.......like what you saw ladies?" D'artagnan asked impishly.  
Constance guffawed openly, "Case of having to!" she quipped, sinking down onto the rocks.  
Eleanor tried to maintain a neutral expression, but couldn't help the small smile that formed at her mouth and dimpled her cheeks.  
"We were hungry, so we thought you might be too," Eleanor remarked and indicated the 2 baskets, bottles and churn of milk which caused the men's expressions to change and they reverted to young boys clamouring for goodies rather than the hunks of searing masculinity they had appeared to be minutes earlier.  
As the children came over to join them, Constance helping to dry and dress them they ate, comfortably and eagerly - the only noises those of satisfied mouthfuls and licking lips.  
Athos indicated for Eleanor to join him and he pulled her against him, kissing her between mouthfuls of melon and wine. Eleanor cast a mindful eye towards the children, but Athos whispered into her ear, "Armand says I can have you....he'll stand aside!" and grinned warmly as Isaac settled down on Eleanor's skirts. 

They spent the day lazing, laughing and loving.

In the village the quietness of a Sunday was disrupted slightly by the arrival of a stranger.   
They made themselves known at the inn; asked for a room and also asked the whereabouts of Athos.


	27. The stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out about the mysterious stranger, who has interesting and potentially life changing news for Eleanor.  
> But, another, more familiar figure turns up at the farm

Monday morning dawned bright, Eleanor and Athos awoke, from Eleanor's bed again, although on this occasion he didn't hurry to be in his own bed in the morning - he discovered that his eldest son had taken full advantage of the opportunity and had covered it from corner to corner as he slumbered on!

Discussions had taken place about how long the rest of the musketeers would remain there; Aramis wanted to return to Paris shortly in order to resume his role as protector for the young regent and his mother. Porthos was also thinking about returning, so that he could meet up with Elodie and renew their intimacies. Constance and D'artagnan however were having second thoughts about returning to Paris. The life on the farm was familiar to d'argtagnan from his youth, and he enjoyed the thought of physical work which wouldn't necessarily endanger his life; and Constance, well.....she was waiting for clarification, and then an opportunity to break some news which might mean that a life in germ filled, uncertain Paris might not be the best choice.

Either way they all decided to see out the week - to rest their bodies, help get the farm back to how it had been prior to Athos' departure and to enjoy the camaraderie.  
Eleanor was toting baskets filled with soap and cheeses to the cart and Athos made the suggestion that they could all go into the village; he could introduce the rest of his friends to the other villagers so that they could come and go as they pleased whilst they remained there, and not raise suspicion by being regarded as 'strangers'. Plus, they could help Eleanor with her tasks!  
Everyone dressed and either sat on the cart, or in Athos, Porthos and Aramis' cases sat astride their horses.   
Eleanor noticed that Porthos carried his pistol and sword and dagger on his belt; however as a general she considered that this would not be out of place, plus none of the others were armed, so they would not appear aggressive.

The village was busy when they arrived, and naturally many pairs of eyes were cast in their direction; although on noting the presence of Eleanor, the children and then Athos their expressions notably softened.  
Athos dismounted first and was welcomed by Gilou from the inn who went to embrace him, but was stilled by Athos; he quickly and without detail alluded to his injury, and 'fencing hand shakes' were instead exchanged.  
Athos indicated to the others, who dismounted and wandered across. Gilou greeted them all warmly and all but insisted that they should go inside the inn.  
Eleanor laughed and shook her head; so much for helping with the tasks!  
The boys were off running to catch up with their friends, leaving Constance, Sylvie and Eleanor to go about her business with her soaps and cheeses. Constance was quite impressed by the efficient manner she dealt with various stall holders in the village - she seemed to be making a decent amount of money from her products, and was able to agree trades and barters for almost anything, and she did it all with such a natural grace and friendliness.  
Constance wondered whether she should confide in her at this stage or wait, but she also thought that she could do much worse than to stay on in Pinon with her husband, and who knows.....

Inside the inn Athos made more reintroductions and although the trio of 'strangers' were regarded with some suspicion, especially Porthos with his bulk and armoury, but being an acquaintance of Athos went a long way, and some of the menfolk remembered them from their previous visit to the village when Athos had surrendered the land and his title formally to them....they owed these men their lives, so the least they could do was buy them a drink!  
Several were raised, toasted and downed, although at a more leisurely pace than in their youth in the garrison, and a pleasant time was being.  
Gilou however indicated for Athos to approach him alone, and when it was convenient he excused himself to meet the innkeeper in the back quarters of the main bar.  
"Thought you'd like to know, someone was asking about you," Gilou informed Athos. "Came in here yesterday, asked if we knew of you, I asked why and he said he was from England. I thought he was telling the truth 'cos I could hardly understand him, but I didn't tell him nothin', said I'd let you know if I saw you."  
The bottom of Athos' stomach fell.....someone from England meant that someone was probably onto Eleanor, maybe after her, maybe about to drag her away from him, maybe about to return her to prison in England.  
He could not and would not allow that to happen.  
"He said something else too. He said, if I saw you to say, 'Tell him about the tapestry in the library and how he didn't get punished'....said that you'd understand that and know who's side he was on," Gilou continued, his speech carefully delivered so as to ensure the message was accurate.  
Athos' brow creased in concentration. The tapestry in the library......that was when he was 9 years old and Eleanor and her brothers were visiting them at the manor house in Pinon. He'd been hiding behind it and had caused part of the fabric to catch alight from a nearby candle. He'd put out the flames, but there had been a stink of burnt wool in the corridor which a tiny Eleanor, who was trying to catch Athos had followed. When caught Athos had been dragged before his father for punishment - the tapestry had cost a fortune and was now ruined; he should have been beaten. However, Eleanor who had been about 4 years old had instead rushed over to Athos' imposing father, jumped onto his lap and sobbed that it was her who had burned the sewing and that he should instead beat her, not Athos. Of course, his father had taken pity on the pretty little girl with the fair curls and fat tears, and naturally he'd escaped punishment and Eleanor had instead received a plum rather than a beating.  
Athos understood that this was something only Eleanor would have recounted to someone; perhaps it was a 'secret code' she had established?   
"If he asks for me again keep him here and send for me," Athos instructed before wandering back to his friends and their raucous laughter.  
_____________  
They made their way back to the farm where the men spent the afternoon tackling some of the jobs in need of attention around the farm - other men would have been unable to focus or function given the amount of wine consumed earlier in the day; but these were musketeers after all!  
Athos was distracted and concerned, but he didn't want to share his new knowledge with Eleanor, or anyone yet.  
It was just after they had finished eating their evening meal when Armand's friend, Luc, arrived at the house. Athos didn't wait for him to speak, he stood up and put on his leather jerkin and returned from the stables with his belt, musket and sword.  
"What's going on?" it was Porthos who voiced the question on everyone's lips.  
Athos did not speak, but went to Eleanor, placed his hand around the nape of her neck and kissed her; resting his brow on her head, " I will not let them take you back," he growled.  
Eleanor's eyes were wide. Back? the only place she could go 'back' to was England; and prison.....what did Athos know?  
He swept from the house, saddled Adila rapidly and was riding off before the others had put on their boots.  
"Follow him!" Eleanor pleaded, and the trio nodded, silently saddling their mounts and tossing swords and muskets to each other as they rode off towards the village, after their friend.  
Eleanor and Constance clung to each other, feeling helpless - someone needed to stay with the children, and Constance would usually have thrown herself into battle alongside her husband; but she may have another to protect.  
So, they went inside the house, and Eleanor told Constance about her past.   
Constance did not judge, she did not show shock or pity.  
They waited.  
__________________  
Athos reached the inn shortly before his friends and remained silent, but didn't admonish their presence. He went straight inside and glared at Gilou who motioned with his head towards the corner.  
Without uttering a word Athos drew his sword and approached the figure. There were several others in the room who ceased their chatter immediately and stared at him.   
"What are you here for?" Athos demanded in his haughty baritone, the blade of the sword mere inches from the stranger's neck.  
The man visible gulped and spoke in broken French, "I'm with the news from England to Marianne of Huntingdon.....I am not for enemy......I am good news," he stuttered, trying not to move or appear threatening in any way.  
"Stand," Athos demanded and moved back as the man cautiously exited his chair and stood, unfortunately he made the error of reaching for his pocket, resulting in Athos slamming him against the wall of the inn and gripping his neck with his left hand; the knuckles turning whiter than the man's face.  
"I........just.........letter," he stammered. Aramis approached and investigated the pocket of the man. He placed the letter and small metal seal he found there on the table.  
"Take him," Athos instructed, releasing the grip around the man's throat so that Aramis could instead hold him at the wall with his dagger and stare.  
Athos looked at the seal; it was Eleanor's family seal, and then the letter. It was in a cursive print, in Latin and was familiar to him - it was a land and ownership deed, complete with the king's wax seal attached alongside one matching Eleanor's seal. There was also a second paper, this time less familiar, but with a flourishing signature which bore the mark of the king of England, in and out of exile in the current English political war.  
"Bring wine," Athos directed the instruction towards Gilou, "And he can sit," which was directed at Aramis and the stranger.  
Over a couple of cups of wine the stranger explained that he had worked for Eleanor's family and had remained close to her after she became imprisoned. The situation in England had changed, again, and the king had pardoned Eleanor and returned her lands to her. All she had to do was return to England in order to claim them. Her family's lands were worth a fortune and carried much power; she was the only descendent, and unusual though it was to award them to a female, the current king of England seemed likely to do whatever he wished!  
"You'd better come with us," Athos stated, rising to his feet and turning to leave.  
___________  
Back at the house there was a sound in the courtyard.  
Constance and Eleanor immediately rushed to the door; Constance carried her pistol ahead of her, but dropped it when she saw the figure standing there.  
"YOU?!" she shouted.


	28. You don't hate me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos and the rest of the musketeers return to the house with their stranger from England.  
> Back at the house a second stranger makes themselves known and Eleanor proves herself to be worthy of her aristocratic title in the way she treats them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could never work out whether I hated Milady or loved her 'f*ck it' attitude....so I decided to write her into this story and let Eleanor decide for me......Eleanor doesn't hate her!

"You'd better come inside," Eleanor said flatly to the figure stood at the door.  
"WHAT?" shrieked Constance, "You do know who she is?......and what she's responsible for?........"  
"I know that she is Athos' wife, therefore she is to be welcomed in what is Athos' home," Eleanor stated, her eyes never leaving the cold stare of the woman opposite her.  
Milady De Winter was slightly taken aback; she recognised Constance, but Eleanor was new to her. She'd heard of the untimely death of Sylvie, but none of her messengers or enquiries had mentioned another woman in his life.....and this one seemed to have manners and a countenance far superior to one she would have expected for someone dressed as a French peasant.  
She herself was hardly in a position to query the dress of another woman however; she was filthy, ragged and bare footed; her hair a tangle of knots and she was thin; the skin on her face drawn and gaunt.  
"You'll come inside, and you'll eat. Constance, please be so good as to heat some water so that our guest may refresh themselves," and Eleanor indicated clearly that Milady should enter and Constance should do as she requested; somehow her time on the farm and her time in an English jail had not managed to remove the years of training as a noblewoman, and her natural grace and authority became apparent.  
Milady entered the main room and nervously surveyed the surroundings; the eyes of 4 children met her and she felt a little embarrassed about her state; an unusual feeling for her.  
"This way please," Eleanor ushered her up the stairs, "Armand, be so good as to bring the water Constance gives you to my room," and she calmly walked behind the woman who stole her dreams of marriage to the man she loved.  
Once within her own room Eleanor located clean clothing; she had some items which were slightly tight on her more voluptuous form which would be suitable. Milady looked around and spotted the sketch of Athos, plus a black shirt discarded, and clearly not for darning purposes - so, this woman was with him now.  
There was a slight knock on the door, "Here is the water Eleanor," Armand carefully deposited a large, clay jug on the table, as instructed by Eleanor, then he left.  
"So........Eleanor? " Milady queried, her brows high and her mouth twisted in a slight gesture of distaste.  
Eleanor however did not rise to the bait. She merely laid a clean drying cloth, bar of soap and the clothing on her bed and turned to leave the other woman to her toilette.  
"Once you are refreshed from your journey please join us to eat, Anne," Eleanor smiled and went downstairs.  
Milady was somewhat stunned. She could have said anything about her appearance, could have thrown her into the barn; but instead she had given her the use of her own room, her own washing stand, her own clothes; and had even saved her embarrassment by suggesting she was grimy from travelling - it was evident that Milady's state was due to weeks of living as a pauper rather than a journey.  
It was also evident that Eleanor knew who she was....and didn't appear phased by it.....and clearly didn't know that she was supposed to be dead at the hands of Athos.  
Had he told her about his past? About her? Or did this woman know by some other means......and what did she know?  
________________  
Downstairs Constance approached Eleanor instantly.  
"What are you doing Eleanor? Don't you know who that is and what she's done?" she admonished her friend. She noticed Eleanor's glances towards the children and lowered her voice. "Eleanor, that woman killed Athos' brother; lied to Athos about her past; had an affair with the King in front of Athos and almost killed him when she burned down his house!"  
Eleanor was silent, but sat calmly by the fireside. She had been aware of some of what Constance had shared, but not all of it.  
"I know that she is still his wife, and that this is Athos' home, and therefore legally her home too," she smiled at the children, "We must make our guest feel welcome, and we won't point out how grubby she was when she arrived because that would be rude," she waited for Jean, Isaac and Armand to nod silently to feel satisfied that they had recognised the lesson taught.  
Constance was uneasy though, "Athos will be furious. You've never seen him around her.....and you don't know their history," she added furtively.  
Eleanor met her friend's gaze, "And you, Constance, don't know MY history; so allow me to come to my own opinion of her please!" she added firmly.  
"Well, I'm not putting this away," Constance indicated the pistol which she kept within arm's reach. Eleanor smiled lightly at Constance, but she was not frightened of Anne De Winter........she was jealous that she could call herself the wife of Athos; and she knew that perhaps something dreadful had happened to make him abandon her, but she was not frightened.  
She rose and went to see to their meal which was cooking and filling the house with delicious aromas, and she gathered more bowls, spoons and cups.  
A short while later Milady descended the stairs; she was washed and dressed in clean clothing and had managed to tame her hair into a more respectable arrangement, although it was still damp.  
"Please, won't you sit by the fire?" Eleanor encouraged gently. Her manner had the effect of making Milady uneasy....she was not used to women showing her kindness.  
Meekly she sat and took the bowl and spoon offered her. Once everyone had been served they ate, Milady had to stop herself from gobbling and shovelling the white beans and duck down her throat; she hadn't eaten anything more substantial than bread crusts and stolen apples in several weeks.  
Eleanor had thoughtfully given herself a small serving of food so that she could reach for seconds and top up Milady's bowl as she did so.  
"I think you have been travelling for some time?" Eleanor asked as the food was finished.  
Milady nodded, "Yes; I've been.....travelling......for several weeks now. I was in the south, my......benefactor died...... and his widow did not want my presence, so I have found myself in want of security......I thought I may find some here."  
Eleanor smiled softly, "So, you came to Athos for sanctuary?" she muttered. "He is presently engaged in some business in the village but should return shortly."  
As if on cue there was the sound of hooves outside and several, familiar male voices could be heard.  
Constance jumped to her feet, "I'd better warn them," she began; but the door was open and Athos was there before she could reach them.

He froze.   
He stared alternately between Milady and Eleanor.....his face a picture of questioning confusion. First the threat of someone from England taking Eleanor away from him and now HER, back and there, in his home.....wearing what he could swear were Eleanor's clothes.  
What the hell was going on?  
It was Eleanor who rose and went to him as the rest of them poured inside, only to freeze like statues, except for their 'passenger' who lurked back in the doorway.  
"Athos; we have a visitor. I have made her comfortable; she tells us that she is in need of a place to stay temporarily. That's correct is it not?" she met Milady's gaze, who nodded meekly. Athos looked as handsome as she remembered, perhaps more so after years apart.  
Athos stood, stunned and tried to make sense of what Eleanor had said, and her manner. How could she be so calm? How could she be so kindly to a woman who he knew had destroyed her dreams of marriage to him so long ago? But he remembered, she had been raised a noblewoman; unlike Anne De Winter, and she knew how to treat those less fortunate than herself - it was clear from Milady's damp hair and strained expression that she was in poor circumstances, and had evidently not appeared at the doorway in her current state.  
The demeanour of D'artagnan, Porthos and Aramis changed to match that of Constance at the sight of Milady, and Eleanor noticed a slight look between the husband and wife; a small look of pain behind Constance's eyes.   
"What do you really want?" Athos asked, his voice hard and sterile; his aristocratic accent becoming more pronounced.  
"Just as you were told. I need somewhere to stay, and you are still my husband, so........" she smirked, causing Athos to slam his fist onto the table and every muscle in his neck to tighten in rage.  
"Boys, go upstairs with your sister.....immediately," urged Eleanor, and the children did as they were bid, although Armand remained hunched at the top of the stairs, trying to understand what was going on.  
"You are my wife in NAME ONLY; as you are very well aware!" he shouted, "I swore I would kill you if I saw you again, and so help me if you threaten to ruin my life again I will....and this time I'll succeed!"  
Eleanor looked around at the expressions of the others, clearly they knew about this.....what did Athos mean 'this time' he'd succeed? Why had he tried to kill his own wife?  
Milady would normally have fought back with some barbed comment, but the truth was, she was tired......tired of lurking in the shadows, tired of being a 'throwaway harlot' for various wealthy Frenchmen and tired of fighting with him. She loved him; she always had and always would; but he could never trust her, and she knew that meant that he could never give himself fully to her.....he hated her for too many reasons.  
"Madame De Winter informed Constance and I that her 'benefactor' has recently died, leaving her penniless and alone," Eleanor spoke calmly in the tense atmosphere. She moved towards Athos' taut and tense body, and only at that point did she catch a glimpse of the man they had brought from the village. Her hand clapped to her mouth as she rushed towards him, "Matthew!!!!! Matthew.....what news do you bring? Your father? Is he.....? " and she forgot the appearance of Milady De Winter as she embraced the man, who was clearly taken aback and unsure of how to react.  
As she released him he fell to a deep kneeling bow before her, "My Lady of Huntingdon, I have news from England which I have shared with this.......er, gentleman," he spoke in English.  
Eleanor encouraged him to stand, but his kneeling action had caught the attention of everyone except for Athos, who of course knew of her past and indeed existing title. Milady's eyes narrowed at the use of English - she'd spent a short time there, many years earlier, but she knew enough of the language to have picked up the gist.  
Athos remained seething at the table, his fist still curled in rage. His mind was racing as to his options. He'd just found a woman who he loved; who could replace the void in his heart, mind and bed since the death of Sylvie - who he had loved, but in a completely different way. He'd loved her anger, drive and ambition; but it hadn't always made her easy to live with. He'd loved Milady; but obviously her actions had not made her easy to live with....and then there had appeared Eleanor, who was both easy to live with and excited him sexually and mentally.....and now Milady threatened all of that.  
"You have your lands back, and you have a king's pardon," he told Eleanor quietly.  
Eleanor clasped Matthew's hands in delight, "Truly? Is that true? Am I free? Are my family's lands returned?" she asked the son of her father's steward in English to ensure no mis-interpretation.  
Matthew nodded eagerly at her, meeting her excited, twinkling eyes, "Yes My Lady, all you need do is return to England and claim them!"   
Eleanor's expression changed instantly and Athos' shoulders visibly tensed again, his face tilting up towards the ceiling.  
"Perhaps we should discuss all of this in the morning, once everyone has a clear head," Aramis suggested.  
There was no response from either Athos or Eleanor; both deep in their own thoughts and fears.  
"Perhaps we could escort you to the inn?" Aramis addressed Milady, at which point Eleanor became aware of the others once more.  
"No, that won't be necessary......you'll sleep here.....you will have my room," Eleanor stated firmly as she saw Athos turn and regard her with a look of misapprehension.  
"How considerate," Milady murmured, addressing herself to Eleanor alone. She stood and moved towards the staircase.  
Athos grabbed her arm harshly as she passed and hissed in her ear, loud enough for the others to hear, "You are fortunate that there is one here who isn't as well acquainted with your true character as the rest of us. You'll leave here tomorrow."   
Eleanor watched Athos' body language; it was slightly concerning to her. This woman still had some kind of hold on him; even if it was hatred for her.  
"Porthos, could you help Matthew find somewhere comfortable with you and Aramis?" Eleanor addressed the men before turning to follow Milady, "Allow me to make you comfortable," she offered, trying to catch Athos' gaze, but failing.

Upstairs Eleanor collected several items for herself from her room as Milady stood a little ill at ease. Normally she knew her part and role - either as assassin, scorned other woman in a marriage or as the woman Athos loved and lusted after.....but she felt unsure of her role with Eleanor. Eleanor was evidently intimate with Athos, but was also being perfectly polite towards her, giving her no reason whatsoever to behave in a less than civilised manner.  
"If there is anything you need I'll be across the hallway," she stated.  
As she moved to exit her room Milady spoke at last, "You don't hate me....." it was a statement rather than a question.  
Eleanor shook her head and smiled gently, " No......Athos chose you; he loves you.....I don't know what happened between you; and I can see that he has a profound anger........but........" Eleanor shrugged her shoulders.  
"I killed Thomas," Milady stated simply. Eleanor's eyes dropped to the floor.  
"Did you have reason?" Eleanor asked, meeting Milady's eyes.  
"Yes, although Athos has never believed me. He had me hanged," at this point she removed the ribbon tied around her throat revealing the scar she still bore.  
Eleanor regarded her and considered the information she'd just bestowed. "Do you want him back?" she asked, without looking at her.  
Milady thought for a moment; did she want this life? Did she want 4 children of assorted ages? Did she want to be stuck in a farm in the middle of nowhere? Did she want his handsome face above hers? Well, one out of the four, yes....she was still a red blooded woman, and Athos had been the best lover of her life.  
"I had him....once; the truth is, he isn't mine to ask for; he hasn't been for a long time. You say he made his choice, and that choice was me....but he also made his choice in leaving me and carrying on with a new life....I'm not part of that. I just need somewhere - somewhere that will feed me, clothe me and keep me warm and dry," Milady suddenly felt her age, and felt scared.....and felt envious of a woman she'd only just met.  
Eleanor continued towards the door; as she closed it she looked at the woman who Athos had chosen and noted her sadness.   
_________________  
The lights had been extinguished downstairs, so she approached Athos' room and knocked gently, "It's Eleanor, may I come in?"  
The reply was calm and quiet, "Of course." She found him standing at his window, his face looked drawn and anguished.  
"Come to bed," Eleanor whispered, moving towards him and pressing her fingers to her lips, indicating the trio of dark haired boys snoring rhythmically in the bed tucked in the corner.  
He tried to retain his stern demeanour, but began to falter as she removed her corset, followed by her skirts and began to unfasten her hair. Athos sighed as she turned, glancing at him over her shoulder and found that he couldn't resist moving to continue taking down her hair and running his fingers through her auburn curls.  
He allowed his hand to fall to her shift and tugged at the single tie at the front, nestled between her breasts. As it fluttered down past her shoulders and hips to puddle on the floor he knew that he was lost to her....his anger at Milady wiped out with her softness and warmth.  
She arranged herself on his bed; she noticed that it smelled of him despite the fact that he hadn't actually slept in it recently, but it felt incredibly erotic to slide beneath the covers as he removed his clothes to join her. She draped herself across him, her fingers tracing patterns in the hair of his chest, grazing against his nipples and enjoying the sensation of seeing them harden beneath her touch.  
He forgot the previous hours and became lost in her once more, his mouth finding hers, their lips and tongues reacquainting themselves and their bodies moulding to one another. Athos growled as his erection pressed against her, Eleanor stifled a giggle and whispered into his ear "The children might wake up!"  
He responded by mounting her and pressing his left hand against her mouth as he grinned down at her and thrust inside her, biting his own lip at the sensation and her teeth on his palm.  
"I love you Eleanor," he whispered into her ear as he started to move inside her.  
Eleanor removed his hand with her own and placed it at her breast, " I know....I love you Athos....I truly love you," she whispered into his ear and their bodies melted together as if they had been always intended to be one.  
A while later, when they were both satiated and their limbs entwined Eleanor sensed Athos tensing once more.  
"I wish........I wish I'd received that letter your father wrote," Athos murmured, sadly into Eleanor's hair.  
She turned her face to see the sadness in his eyes.  
" I have a suggestion.......but it depends on one thing," she said cautiously. Athos gave her a querying look and she continued, " Would you like to be married to me?"


	29. The new Lady of Huntingdon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor makes a suggestion which could solve several problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this is taking it into the realms of 'what the f*ck?' but I don't care, I want a happy ending for them all and it's my story so nah!

Eleanor whispered her suggestion to Athos calmly as they lay together post -coitally, sharing his bed.   
Considering the short space of time she had had to think of it, it was actually rather inventive....and potentially a clever solution to several problems.  
"But we would be dependent upon that woman maintaining the ruse...." he murmured.  
Eleanor turned her head to face him, "I know....but it is very much to her favour to maintain it," she remarked levelly.  
Athos was thinking, she could tell by the way his eyes were cast slightly to one side, and he was biting the inside of his lower lip.  
"And Matthew.....can you trust him?" he asked in his gravelly voice.  
Eleanor met his gaze, "With my life. If he knows that this is my true wish he would maintain any pretence asked of him; moreover he would consider it his duty to think on it as a truth rather than a lie. He will help her to create a new myth."  
Athos pressed his lips to Eleanor's forehead and breathed deeply as she roved her tongue across his chest, coming to rest at his hard nipple which she sucked and gently nibbled until he growled and dragged he up so that her lips could meet his own.  
A long, lingering and passionate embrace, left them both breathless and aroused anew, but they merely looked into the eyes of the other. Athos whispered to her, somewhat awkwardly, "Shall I need to call you by her name? .....I don't feel I shall be able to....not ALL of the time....not when we are here."  
Eleanor considered for a moment, "Well.......my name truly is Marianne, which is half of hers....!"  
Athos smiled at her, the deep lines at the corner of his hooded eyes crinkling. "Then shall we announce to the village that we are wed, and that we have been these many years...and that you came back to me after I believed you dead?....it isn't so far from the truth," his eyes clouded as he ended his statement.  
Eleanor saw his expression, and recalled the angry words earlier, "Whatever happened did so for a reason.....and it has brought us all to here, and now....and has brought you here, beside me," and she grazed her fingers across his thighs.  
He inhaled sharply at her touch and twisted onto his side to stare at her; "You truly don't care about my past do you?" he grinned.   
"No," she quipped mischievously, "I only care about your present, and your future....which I want to be with ME," and she squirmed around so that he was pressing into her back, "Because this is the safest feeling I have ever known," she sighed as she nuzzled his hairy forearm.  
They slumbered until dawn when Eleanor got up and quietly went across the hallway as they had discussed.  
Athos waited for Eleanor to return.  
_______________  
Eleanor slipped into her familiar room and regarded Milady who was tightly curled up in her bed, it very much looked like she may have been crying before drifting to sleep.  
Eleanor took a calming breath before moving to her, sitting lightly on the mattress and gently shaking Milady's shoulder to rouse her. The woman opened her eyes to Eleanor who urged her to be silent by pressing her finger to her own lips.   
"I have a question for you. I need you to think carefully about it," Eleanor noted Milady's slight nod and she continued, "If it were possible for you to live in England, as a very rich woman, would you consider it?"  
Milady sat up in bed and regarded Eleanor as if she had gone quite mad, "Of course I would consider it." She was about to speak more, but was stopped by Eleanor.  
"You would have to assume a different character. Would that be problematic?" she asked.  
Milady almost laughed; she'd spent her life assuming various roles and characters.  
Eleanor continued, "Very well.....you'd have to give up Athos....forever," she looked directly at the woman opposite her, checking for any emotional display.  
But Milady regarded her levelly and coolly, " I said earlier that he was no longer mine......he made his choice, and much as it pains me to say this, he loves you more than he loves me....it's clear."  
Eleanor was a little taken aback, but continued, "You must maintain a complete secret......I am proposing that you return to England in my place.....and take my identity. I don't want my lands, title or money; I just want to be here; with him....it's all I ever wanted until you came along," she smiled at the shocked expression on Milady's face.  
She regained her composure, "How could it be possible for me to claim to be you? We look nothing alike for a start!"   
Eleanor briefly explained about her past, her imprisonment and subsequent escape, she noted the look of awe and respect her information had on Milady.   
"There has been such upheaval in England, I have been imprisoned for many years now, and only Matthew knows of my escape - he was the son of my father's steward, he stayed loyal to me and helped me escape, but he told Athos that everyone from my old land has been killed, there is nobody who could recognise you, or I for that matter; and as long as Matthew speaks for you........I have the necessary papers and seal," Eleanor regarded Milady coolly.  
"So, we both have a shady past........and both love that moody man," Milady smirked. "Of course I'd have to give up being Anne De Winter, wife of Athos.....I wonder who could fill that role?"  
The 2 women simply met each other's eyes for a long moment. "You will need to provide me with considerable information so as to address any questions which could arise, but I agree to your proposal," she held out her hand which Eleanor took in a firm, feminine handshake.  
As she made her way to leave Milady asked her, "Aren't you frightened that I'll ruin your name? I'm sure Constance won't have a decent word to say about me."  
Eleanor stifled a laugh, "I think being accused of killing my own husband on my wedding night has pretty much made my name fairly low.....this pardon is written on paper and sealed, but knowing how things are in England it could well be reversed and thrown out tomorrow.....so, I feel that you are the one taking the risk!"  
"I like risks.......makes life so much more exciting," winked Milady.  
______________________  
Eleanor went back to find Athos pacing around the bed in his room. He sought out her eyes the instant she came into the room and found them shining.  
He risked a small smile which she returned, " Just Matthew to convince now!" she sighed.  
Athos clasped her hands in his own, "Do you truly believe this will succeed?" he asked. He'd been pacing and thinking about what they were considering doing all the time Eleanor had been across the hallway, and what had seemed like a straightforward and whimsical notion suddenly seemed fraught with difficulties.  
"As long as the minimum number of people know - you, me, Anne and Matthew ONLY - I don't see why it shouldn't. You know her well enough to know she can carry off a wealth of characters; and she told me herself, she just wants somewhere to live....well, why not in a manor that I don't desire, using money that I have no need for," Eleanor hugged Athos, pressing her cheek against his beating heart. "We both came here for sanctuary....maybe we shall both find it, through each other?"

Neither felt sleepy so they dressed and went out into the fields, wandering hand in hand as the scent of lavender filled their senses and reminded them of their first kisses. It wasn't long before Athos had pulled her down once more and was re-enacting several scenes from that first encounter as she unravelled in his arms and beneath his warm mouth.  
Satiated and happy they returned to the house and awaited the others. Especially Matthew whom Eleanor needed alone.  
_____________________  
She informed him of her wishes, simply and without emotion. Matthew was loyal to her, as his father had been - it was only by default of him following Eleanor when she was imprisoned that he escaped the fate of the rest of those living on the Huntingdon estate, including his own father. He had been brought up to honour the wishes of his master, and that was now Eleanor, so he agreed to carry out his part of the ruse.  
"My Lady, are you sure this is what you want?" he cast his arm around the small house and surrounding fields, the water trough and the animals.  
Eleanor laughed at him, "Matthew, I have never been more certain....THIS is what I have ALWAYS wanted.....because I have always wanted him, and nobody else."  
Matthew promised that he would escort The new Lady of Huntingdon back to England and would explain her changed state due to imprisonment, age and they agreed that they should claim that part of her imprisonment should have perhaps been in France to explain Milady's accent, although the fact that she could speak and understand some English was a significant help.  
The new Lady of Huntingdon found them still in discussion.  
"So?" she raised her eyebrow.  
In response, whilst nobody else could see them, he dropped to his knee before her, "If you would allow me, My Lady of Huntingdon, I should be delighted to escort you back to your home after your prolonged imprisonment," and he raised her finger tips to his lips.

The new Lady Marianne of Huntingdon smiled at the old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna do one final chapter to tie up the loose ends and possibly an epilogue style flash forward bit and then it will be done.


	30. Happy Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone moves on to the next chapter of their lives; Eleanor and Athos are together, Milady returns to England with a new role and a new chance, and D'artagnan finds out he has a new role to fulfil!  
> there are happy endings all round!

Once the rest of the house was awake there was a concerted effort from Porthos and Aramis to ready themselves to return to Paris. D'artagnan had begun to make preparations for him and his wife, but after a brief discussion between herself and Eleanor she beckoned him for privacy and took him into the stables.  
In the quiet surroundings, broken only by the odd bleat of goats, she laid his hand against her belly, met his eyes and informed him that their future would shortly involve a small, additional mouth to feed.  
D'artagnan's shock had been quickly overpowered with delight and after whirling his wife around and kissing her passionately he remembered her condition and insisted she be seated, much to Constance's amusement.  
She reassured him that she was well and that she would only need to start taking more caution in December when their child would be born. She also voiced the question she had been secretly considering herself :  
"Do you think returning to Paris would be for the best?" she asked, her eyes deep in thought.  
D'artagnan considered her question carefully; Paris was their home, now.....but it had not been d'artagnan's all his life, and his childhood growing up in Gascony had been one of freedom, healthiness and friendship.....very similar to the childhoods of Athos' children.  
"Would you prefer to stay?" he asked honestly.  
Constance's eyes gave away her feelings rather than her response of, "I'll go wherever you wish to."   
D'artagnan's eyes twinkled as he replied, "I think perhaps I'd better ask Athos if he needs that outbuilding behind the stables," and he laughed as Constance's arms wrapped around his neck and she covered his face in warm kisses.  
Hand in hand they ran to find the others to share their news.  
Eleanor smiled along with the others, although Constance had of course confided in her earlier....she'd also expressed her wishes about remaining close by rather than return to Paris, so she was thrilled when D'artagnan voiced his question to Athos. Athos didn't immediately make the connection, but did so after Eleanor's comment;  
"Oh yes dearest.....we must keep our friends close so that our children will always be friends......after all, childhood friends are so very important!"  
He smiled warmly, firstly at the woman he loved, and then at his old friend, "It is yours my friend.....providing you are willing to return to the life of a humble farmer?" and slapped him on the back.

Milady had been busying herself in Eleanor's room whilst the announcement was made - Eleanor had written down a great deal of information which she was memorising in case of further queries. She now knew the names of all of Eleanor's family be heart, her childhood illnesses, the details of her marriage, of her husband, of the infamous wedding night and the details of a good many of the places Eleanor was imprisoned. She had decided that upon her return she would resume the use of her correct, birth name, of Marianne - it was closer to her own name and in her own mind marked a clear distinction between the role she was taking rather than Eleanor herself.   
She'd also been told something extraordinary by Eleanor in the detailed information - one sheet of paper began with the comment, 'destroy this immediately, and never speak to Athos of it.' Reading on Eleanor's distinctive script explained how she believed Milady's account of Thomas forcing himself upon her. Eleanor had heard of a young servant girl, a pretty thing just 14 years old. Thomas had forced her into an act she was both unprepared for and unwilling to submit to. The young girl had been distraught, but had insisted upon secrecy.....and perhaps fortunately the subsequent pregnancy had not lasted long before the baby was lost. The young servant girl continued to be employed by her mistress, who was the person who had informed Eleanor, and appeared none the worse for her ordeal.....but Eleanor had always felt uncomfortable around Thomas, this story gave her evidence, if it where needed, and therefore she could completely believe Milady's account. The letter went on to state that Athos had no knowledge of this, and that Eleanor had no intention of informing him now, but she wished Milady to know that she believed her to be truthful.  
This letter moved Milady to tears....she rarely cried, but the knowledge that someone else believed her was overwhelming.   
She had intended to return to the Huntingdon estates and 'make the most of her new found fortune', but this revelation from Eleanor was like a redemption. She vowed to use this opportunity to forge a new. better future for herself; possibly one which may include true friendship.....maybe even love; although her heart would always belong to Athos; and her penance for her wickedness working for the likes of Rochfort would always be to know that she lost it.  
\-----------------  
Eleanor knocked before entering her own room now that Milady was using it,   
"Are you prepared?" she asked, noticing the neatly piled pieces of paper which were all turned over on the bed.  
Milady nodded and gave the briefest smile.  
Eleanor went to the wooden chest and opening it removed the russet coloured gown she had last worn on the day she arrived. She handed it to Milady, along with the golden dagger and amber pendant,  
"These belonged to me.......so you should take them," she stated.  
Milady looked a little tearful suddenly, "I have nothing of equal value to give you," she murmured, fingering the fabric of the gown reverently.  
Eleanor touched her elbow in order to raise her gaze to her own,  
"Anne; you have given me something that belonged to you which I could never repay," both pairs of eyes wandered out of the window to watch the figure of Athos effortlessly hoisting hay bales out of the ramshackle out building whilst d'artagnan peered out of the upstairs window, throwing a random collection of items down to the dirt below.  
Milady touched Eleanor on the elbow to bring her gaze to her own,   
"He's yours," she smiled sincerely; possibly for the first time in her life. "But if you hurt him.....I will kill you!"  
The two women grinned warmly at each other; a strange respect existing between them.  
__________________________________  
Later that day Matthew and Milady departed.  
The left quietly so as not to endure too many questions from the others. Constance for one was pleased that the woman had departed - she had her reasons to hate her!  
__________________________________  
The following day saw the departure of Porthos and Aramis, both back to Paris, both back to arms of the women they loved there.  
It had been a wonderful reunion of old friends. They had endured and could be proud of their efforts to ensure peace for France, but it was now time for the next chapter of their lives.  
__________________________________  
D'artagnan and Athos worked steadily to make the outbuilding more suitable for habitation - with the assistance of Gilou they managed to create 3 clearly defined rooms, which Eleanor and Constance scrubbed and instructed the men of where to place various furnishings which they cobbled together from the main house and from donated items from villagers once word got around that Constance and d'artagnan were staying, and were soon to become parents.  
By mid way through August the wheat was golden in the fields, Constance's belly was beginning to protrude past her stays and Eleanor had received word from Matthew that Milady had been accepted as the new Marianne of Huntingdon and had already made a significant investment in the estate; encouraging hard workers to make it their home, and rewarding their efforts with improved housing and fair wages.

The children were running bare foot through the stream close by the house in the summer sunshine. D'artagnan and Constance were ensconced in their own home; close enough to share the same well and trough as Athos and Eleanor, but far enough away to allow both families privacy - although Sylvie, Isaac, Jean and Armand hadn't received the instruction!  
Eleanor had not removed herself from Athos' bedroom, however the beds of the children had been rearranged between the two other rooms - Armand and Sylvie shared with their own beds in what used to be Eleanor's room whilst the twins remained in their old room, but now proudly sported their own beds.  
Athos ambled across to join his family; his day of work in the fields over and his desire for relaxation evident in the manner in which he tore the shirt from his back and dashed the cooling water across body. Eleanor smiled at the sight of him and the thrill that coursed through her each time his eyes caught hers.  
Damp and smiling he held his hands out to raise her from the ground and into his arms. She giggled as cold drops of water fell from his dark hair onto her shoulders and squealed as he shook more across her whilst devouring her neck with his warm mouth.  
She sought out his mouth with her own and they kissed deeply, unaware of the world around them and wrapped in each other.  
When they eventually parted their lips they stood facing each other, Athos' hands clasped around Eleanor's waist, hers resting lightly against his bare chest.  
His thoughts went back to when she'd reappeared in his life and he gazed into her eyes.  
"What are you thinking?" Eleanor murmured, her fingers absently tracing patterns into the dark hair on his broad chest.  
"I was wondering whether you found it....what you were searching for all those months ago when you arrived here?" he asked, a warm smile breaking out on his face as Eleanor buried her face into his neck, giggling.  
"Do you mean have I found sanctuary?.......Oh yes, I've found my own personal sanctuary....right here, in these arms....and these lips," she replied, punctuating her comments with kisses across his damp skin.  
"Let's go home," he said, turning towards the house, maintaining his grasp on Eleanor's waist and snatching up his discarded shirt.  
They walked together......for the rest of their lives.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, really nauseating ending, but I love a happy one and I wanted to finish it!


End file.
